


The Surface Is Weird And Confusing And Generally A Place Of Little Logic

by Gale_Breeze



Series: Into The Light [2]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, Vague Worldbuilding, my girl is hella hard to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-06-28 18:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 129,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15712581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gale_Breeze/pseuds/Gale_Breeze
Summary: After having a decent night of sleep for the first time in a week, Eight is super ready to go shopping and get some proper stuff that isn't coated in her own blood. But the surface is really, REALLY confusing, and her friends just keep making it even more confusing to wrap her head around? She can figure it out though... She's sure of it.At least nobody is shooting at her this time.





	1. Morning At Three's Apartment

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you've got any questions, direct them to my tumblr at sunsetconcert.tumblr.com!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight is REALLY HARD to write.

_So cold, so empty. Death's her deal._  
_From yellow jacket to cold stares,_  
_Perhaps she wants your life to steal._  
  
_A Roller swings, a Shooter shoots._  
_A combat starts, minds must now part,_  
_Escape will become my sweet loot._  
  
_You shall not break my dreams so dear,_  
_Bright sun and surf, of inking turf,_  
_Come closer now, I'll end it here._  
  
_At last we meet, oh deadly foe._  
_My fate will not spray this cool hate._  
_This life will change, I'll make it so._  
  
_The sickly sweet aroma spreads._  
_Its stagnant arms bring only harm,_  
_Along with sluggish looming dread._  
  
_A perfect meeting now I'll make,_  
_Memories gone for not too long,_  
_My future is mine, here to take._

  
  
\---

  
Eight shuddered as she opened her eyes. It was nice and warm here, she didn't _want_ to wake up. Stupid body having needs and junk. It didn't help that the atmosphere was just the most perfect sleep atmosphere ever. A quiet, almost melancholy song echoed through the air, paired with a duet of a man and woman all to the tune of a long single note being played on some kind of horn. The smell of something cooking wafted just under her nose, while a beam of warm sunlight drifted onto her blanket covered form. Literally everything, right now, was perfect.  
  
But unfortunately, as said before, the body has needs. One of those needs was food. And Eight was sadly hungry enough to want to investigate that really good smell instead of staying asleep. So, with a great anguish burning in her hearts, she rose from her slumber. Blearily, she pushed herself up and gazed at the surroundings, green in colour and faded in age. Oh. That was right. She was in Agent Three's... Apartment, was it? This would've been an opulent home back in the Domes. That it was just something you could _have_ here on the Surface was truly magical.  
  
She glanced around, and saw a small kitchen connecting to the room she was in now. There, in front of what appeared to be an oven, stood Three. Hips swaying to the music, pouring something out of a bottle into a large frying pan. "Three?" Eight asked quietly. Three responded to Eight's voice breaking the music by screeching at a _tremendous_ volume, slamming the bottle onto a counter and the pan onto the oven, dropping to the floor and then rolling out of sight. It was also slight, but she noticed that the woman's voice vanished out of the song. Huh. "Are... Are you okay?"  
  
Three popped up and brushed herself off. "I'm fine. You didn't see that." Nnnnoooo, Eight was fairly certain that her mental facilities were sound. Though it did seem not nearly as coordinated as Three had been previously. Food for thought. "Anyways. Morning." Ah, yes! Morning! On the SURFACE! Eight could happily say that it _truly was_ a good morning! The phrase had never been truer, except perhaps on the day where somebody invented Ink Tanks that didn't rely on direct connection to the body. Because that was just a real time and pain saver right there.  
  
"Good morning! What is this made of? I've never slept so well in my life!" Eight exclaimed.  
  
Three gave a look that was more than a bit worried and troubled before exhaling deeply. "It's just a random bed I bought. Not sure what it's made of, but I know for sure that it's definitely nothing special." She turned back to what she was doing and shook the frying pan slightly. "Good to hear you slept well, though. I was worried Clownfish Park would be noisy as shit, but hey, universe has to give us a break sometime, right?" Statistically speaking, it would have to at some point.  
  
Eight nodded slowly. She had no idea what the hell Clownfish Park was, or why it would be noisy, but it sounded intriguing. A few minutes passed in akward silence. Eight wasn't totally sure why that was, but she was willing to guess it had something to do with the fact that they didn't really have _any_ history that wasn't life or death based. Three had good reason to suspect Eight, since she had confessed to trying to steal the Zapfish. And Eight had good reason to suspect Three, since she had made herself the _literal icon_ of anti-Inkling sentiment in the underground.  
  
"Um," Eight started a few minutes later. "Where is my Ink Tank? It had some possessions of mine in it." She had no idea of what they were, but they were all she had. You had to keep hold of things like that in this world, really.  
  
"Oh, the nightmare one? Next to the sofa." Three gestured carelessly. It was a very careless motion. Eight was surprised she didn't get hurt with how careless she was being. "Or the bed you were sleeping on. Whichever." Oh. That was a nice surprise. Eight didn't really think that Three would've _cared_ enough to keep it on hand. She leaned over the side of the bed and stared at her Ink Tank. No. At the Kamabo Tank. The moment she got a chance, she was ditching this one for a better one.  
  
Eight opened the small compartment at the bottom of the Kamabo Tank and let the contents spill out in front of her. Well. Time to go to work. Eight sat up properly, crossed her legs, pulled that large comfortable blanket closer, and began counting. She had five of each little ticket thing, barring the four tickets she'd spent to buy that admittedly delicious but ultimately _deceitful_ meal yesterday. Each coin had a numeric value on it, and the numbers added up to around 60000 in all. And then there were the small rocks, which she owned around seventy of, but she couldn't figure out what _good_ they were compared to the other two stacks.  
  
Her sorting was interrupted by a plate moving into her vision. "Hm? What's this?" It was just a simple red plate. On it though, was a stack of strange circular food items with a fork jabbed into them. She looked at Three with an odd look, which she imagined was full of despairing confusion. Three rolled her mismatched eyes and pushed the plate into Eight's hands. "Um. Thank you?"  
  
Three sat down on the end of the bed with her own plate. "Pancakes. Would've put syrup on 'em, but I'm out of the stuff." She stabbed the fork in and tore out a chunk of her own stack and ate it. Eight copied the motion, and immediately began devouring every last crumb. Delicious. Utterly delicious. They were warm and beautifully fluffy, every bite was unlike anything she'd ever eaten before. She could eat this forever. She really could. "You like 'em? They're the last thing left in the apartment, so."  
  
Eight shoved another forkful into her mouth. " _Purfek_ ," she managed to get out. What sort of demented _black magic_ did Three put into these icons of flavour? And this was what she created when she was out of other foods? Truly, the Surface was a wonderland. She gulped down another pancake and looked Three in the eyes. "Do you have any more? Please say you do! I want to to have more!" Please have more!  
  
Three looked down at her own plate, only half-eaten. Eight must have looked a little too hungry, because Three sighed and held out her plate. "Y'know what? You can have mine. I ain't that hungry anyways. I'll grab some grub later." YES. Eight grabbed the plate and began devouring the scrumptious food in front of her. Ohhh, it was so good. "This is... A lot of stuff you have here. Mind if I have a look?" Eight shook her head and let Three go to it.  
  
Eight swallowed the last gulp and looked at Three carefully as she looked over the careful stacks Eight had made. Her tentacles were rounded and muddy dark orange, and long enough that they nearly touched the floor, covered in enough scars that Eight had to double-check that they were actually orange and not a pale white. While one of her eyes had changed to the greenish-blue of that ink, the other one was a deep violet colour that almost sparkled with hidden knowledge. And at some point between yesterday and now, she'd changed into a long-sleeved black shirt that said 'Mariana Mystery' in wavy blue letters.  
  
"Is there anything wrong?" Eight asked slowly. She would hate for something to go wrong.  
  
Three was silent for a moment. After a long moment, her eyes lifted to look Eight in the eye. "Nothing is wrong, exactly. But it should be _impossible_ for you to own some of these chunks." She lifted one of the rocks and tapped the arm insignia on it. "A lot of these were removed from play around a year ago in the Snail Protection Accords. You said you got these from some kind of vending machine?"  
  
"Yes, I did. Once I got all my memories, I had no more need for the points. I spent them all, and this is what I got." It'd been something of a _thrill_. She had some intent of finding out in the future, but Eight wondered if that was the rush you got from spending an absurd amount of money all at once? It was certainly a strange feeling to have. "But I think I get what you mean... If these came from the vending machine, then Kamabo got its hands on them somehow. Which ones were removed?"  
  
Three pulled almost _thirty_ of the small stones away. Darn! Eight had been hoping she could keep them all. "These ones. Recon and Bomb Sniffer were removed entirely, while Defense Up and Damage Up were put under heavy sanctions. There are a few groups who have access to them, but generally those groups are under some kind of governmental or international oversight." She sighed aggravatedly. "Gonna have to update my goddamn conspiracy board again, aren't I?"  
  
Ah. So Eight had accidentally broken international law before stepping aboveground. _Fantastic_. How many other ways could she make a mockery of the Surface? Let us start a counter, shall we? "So I'm a criminal. Great."  
  
"No. I know a guy. We'll stop by sometime during the day, hand them off, he'll take care of it." Three rolled her shoulders and gave a faint smile. After all the scowling she had done yesterday, it was a somewhat amazing sight. "That said. The rest of these chunks... I think that these are good. Bit more scratched than I've ever seen, but still good."  
  
"You keep using that word," Eight pointed out. "Chunks. What are they?" Some kind of technology, obviously, if what Three was saying was any indication.  
  
"Oh. Uh, you know about abilities?" Three asked.  
  
Eight nodded. Of course she did. It was part of every Octarian's basic education to know how every aspect of Inktech worked. "Of course. Abilities are strands of Super Sea Snail Protein woven into clothing to produce certain effects. Faster movement, reducing ink consumption by your weapons, speeding up Special gain, things like that." Eight wasn't super clear on the inherent mechanics beyond that however. She did know that certain abilities were mutally exclusive, and that all abilities gave diminishing returns if you stacked them enough.  
  
Three nodded encouragingly. "Yeah. Well, there's a certain... Process... Up here that you can use to get rid of abilities if they're not what you want. Only Urchins know it, and they're _not_ keen on sharing. Problem is, when you wash the Snail Protein out, it collects into small lumps and solidifies into these chunks. It's real hard to get _un_ solidified, but if you can get enough of a type of chunk, you can get enough of the Snail Protein back to weave the ability into any piece of gear you want."  
  
"Really?" That sounded... Really overpowered. Abilities were strictly regulated in the Underground due to a limited supply of Super Sea Snails, with only soldiers allowed to use them. Even then, only Ink Saver and Ink Recovery were the only abilities that somebody like Eight could use. Elites had access to Defense Up, and anyone above them had access to any ability they wanted. "In the Underground, we didn't have that sort of technology. We had to destroy the gear outright to recycle the Snail Protein."  
  
"Huh. Weird." Three grabbed the illegal chunks and carried them over to the kitchen counter. "Anyways. I'll bag these, we take them to my guy, he'll take them off our hands. The rest of that looks decent, so it should be usable." She stretched her arms above her head and looked at Eight with a strange look in her eyes. It was strangely unsettling, knowing somebody was actively observing you at every moment.  
  
Eight brushed her tentacles aside and looked back just as quietly. Dare to stare at Eight? She will stare right back! An ouroboros of blatant observation! Hah! TAKE THAT! It took her a few minutes to realize that this was most likely an extremely immature reaction to being stared at, but maturity could go take a hike, buster! Eight wasn't about to throw her pride away or anything, but like hell she was going to act proper and dignified when she didn't have to. Yeah.  
  
Three coughed and looked away with a large blush. Hah! Victory was Eight! "Hah! I win! Staring contests are fun!"  
  
"Whatever. It's almost eight in the morning, and we agreed to meet Pearl and Marina at Arowana at ten. I checked, next train that'll take us close arrives in around half an hour from now. And no, you didn't win." She nodded at a weird circle on the wall with numbers on it, with three large sticks. It was a really weird wall ornament. "And no offense, but the boots you were wearing yesterday are goddamn soaked in your own blood. So I'm not gonna let you fucking wear them. Come on, I'll lend you a pair of shoes to wear until you get your own."  
  
Oh! Really? Wow... Three was really kind and generous. Letting Eight wear her clothes, feeding her... She was like some kind of _superhero_! "Thank you Three!" Eight pushed all her small bits and pieces away and vaulted over the head of the bed to catch up to Three as she walked into the hallway. "What sort of shoes do you have?" Probably all kinds of cool stuff. Like jetboots. Eight had always wanted jetboots, but apparently the R &D budget was never open enough for Sci-Ops to develop them. Whatever they were, they'd have to be the sort of crazy stuff that only an Agent could own!  
  
Three minutes later, Eight felt vastly underwhelmed. The room Three had led her into was supposedly her bedroom - which was super duper weird! An entire room just for a _bed?_ Just for _sleeping?_ That was absurdly decadent, and Eight was so down for it. Eight was also feeling guilty, as her own stupid insecurities had prevented Three from sleeping in her own bed. Which was awful. She was stupid. An idiot. Should've just kept her mouth shut, should've just not spoke.  
  
"Hey," Three grumbled as she snapped her fingers. "Try these. See if they fit." Three tossed a pair of orange and blue shoes and a large bulky hooded top. Eight let out a squeak as they landed in her lap. "Did I shock you?"  
  
"No!" Eight lied.  
  
"Uh huh," Three replied casually.  
  
Eight poked her tongue out and undid the two straps on each shoe before slipping them onto her feet, followed by pulling off the loose clothing she had worn before and pulled the hooded top on. They fit, but just kind of. Octoling Boots were far more comfortable, but she supposed these would do for now. Speaking of 'This would do', that was the general aesthetic of Three's bedroom - it would do. It was almost completely bare, save for the bed, a small Zapfish plush she had been warned not to touch, and a very well organized wall of weapons. Perfectly maximized spacing, sorted by weapon-type... Not bad work. Could use an Octoling's touch, though. "They fit, but..."  
  
"Hm. Well, we'll grab you some new ones while we shop." Three sighed loudly and pulled out a pair of purple shoes from the almost empty closet. The only clothes still in there were a few large tops like Eight was still wearing, a pair of ugly brown boots that Eight really wanted to take a closer look at and the almost completely ragged Hero Suit. It was torn to bits, to the point where Eight was shocked it provided any level of protection at all. "I need to grab myself some new clothes too... Fucking hell."  
  
Eight frowned. Weren't Inklings fashionable? The magazines she'd found all suggested that Inklings were meant to be fashionable. But that required... Having clothes, didn't it? "Why is your closet so empty?" She didn't mean for it to come out sounding like an accusation, but it kind of did. Whoops. "I mean, I had this magazine that said Inklings wore lots of clothes, so..." She let herself trail off. Three looked mad. Oh no.  
  
"I've outgrown almost everything in my damn wardrobe," Three growled deeply. She looked deeply displeased by the current turn of events. Also by the fact that she was being a blatant fool and saying _wardrobe_ instead of _closet_ , but then Eight didn't look down on intellectual foolery like that. "Also, I'm not really a big fan of fashion. I had my favourite shirt, I had my favourite shoes, and I had my favourite hat. But apparently I'm too large for them all now."  
  
Oh! Then Three HAD to come with her for shopping! They could go shopping together! "Come with me then!" Yes! And then maybe she could get to know Three better, in a way that didn't involve them trying to murder each other in awful ways! So far, all she really knew about Three personally was that she had a vendetta against capes for some reason. "We can go shopping together!" Eight was so excited for this! There had to be a proper word for excitement that was shorter. But what...  
  
"I mean. I said I'd come with to find you a cape?" Three replied confusedly as she adjusted her dark blue shirt. "So... Sure?"  
  
**SUCCESS**. Eight was a paragon of diplomacy. "Yay! Can we go now?" She really wanted to get back out under the sun and just kind of... Bask in her reward for saving the world. It'd be super rad if she could do that. And getting to see Pearl and Marina again would be super cool! Today couldn't possibly go wrong! "I want to get to see everything I possibly can!"  
  
Three gave a weary nod. "Yeah. Probably best we get out there before a definite crowd starts forming." She rolled her shoulders again and nodded at the front door. "Come on then. God knows my fucking brain wants this done with soon."  
  
Eight frowned as another swear came from Three's mouth. "Why do you keep swearing? Isn't it a bad thing to be swearing all the time?" At least that's what... what... Who said that? She knew it... It was right there, on the tip of her tongue... Her... Leader? No. Captain. Not MC Cuttlefish. Her first Captain. What was her name... Come on, Eight, think. It was, it was, ARGH, it hurt it hurt, what was it?! It was! It was!  
  
~~_kixbiqv biuizi ozquu_~~. Wait, no. Not that. That was... Octarian cipher? Eight knew how to write it, but her brain just wasn't cooperating. What was it?.  
  
~~_kixbiqv biuizi ozquu pil bicopb pmz bpib. itwvoaqlm pmz ayciluibma uizzqai, kibpmzqvm, ivl uizkca, bpmqz aycil pil jmmv bicopb pwe bw jm xmznmkb awtlqmza. jiaqk emixwva pivltqvo, ktwam ycizbmza kwujib, qvs twoqabqka, mdmzgbpqvo mqopb eia pil jmmv bicopb jg kixbiqv ozquu. pmz mfxmzbqam qv kwujib pil lzqdmv bpmu zqopb bw bpm bwx wn nzwvbtqvm wxmzibqwva, epmzm bpmg pil jmmv xqksml wcb ia xizb wn lr wkbidqw'a xmzawvit ocizl ivl lmnmvam._~~  
  
~~_mqopb pil twdml pidqvo kixbiqv ozquu ia bpmqz quumlqibm acxmzqwz... zqopb cx cvbqt bpib twdm pil jmmv bpwcopb bw kzmibm cvzmab ivl zmjmttqwca amvbqumvba. ixxizmvbtg bpm zmaqabivkm pil jmmv sqksqvo cx eidma aqvkm iomvb bpzmm pil lqdml qv ivl cxzwwbml pmz mvbqzm ewztl. ia ackp, kixbiqv ozquu ewctl jm bzivanmzzml wcb bw kwuuivl ivwbpmz cvqb cvbqt nczbpmz vwbqkm. nwz vwb bpm nqzab bqum, mqopb kczaml iomvb bpzmm ivl epib apm pil lwvm._~~  
  
~~_bpm kixbiqv'a nqvit ewzla emzm bpca._~~  
  
~~_"jm xzwnmaaqwvit. jm auizb. jm jzidm. jm twgit. ia twvo ia gwc nwttwe epib'a zqopb, gwc kiv vmdmz ow ezwvo."_~~  
  
~~_mqopb vmdmz aie kixbiqv ozquu ioiqv._~~  
  
Wow! Eight had never felt so much pain in her life! It was positively _miraculous_ she hadn't passed out from sheer shock! Her head felt rattled like she'd fallen off a Flooder-6. "Hey! Hey, are you alright?!" Three yelled, shaking Eight back into the present violently. Everything felt foggy, like gazing into a fog in the distance. Perhaps she shouldn't do that again - just existing right now was a genuine toll. But if she didn't ever do that again... That had been a memory. A personal one. One that was hers, but she couldn't understand. She wanted that memory back. Her head imploding was worth that memory. "HEY! Answer me!"  
  
"Whuh?" Eight slurred. Which was incredibly unprofessional. Eight pinched herself tightly, let her red clawtips dig in until the pain forced her senses into alertness. "I... I'm fine. I'm fine."  
  
Three yelled loudly. "Are you fucking _sure_?! I answered your fucking question and you didn't fucking answer me for like a solid fucking _minute_ there! You just fucking _sat_ there like a fucking rock not doing fucking _anything_!" Three was swearing an awful lot. It was kind of ringing and loud. Mmghr, her head hurt. And all the yelling wasn't helping that much. Eight rubbed her temples and looked at Three with what she hoped was a refreshed smile. It probably just came out as kind of exhausted, since Three just gave her a concerned look. "Are you okay? Because if you're feeling sick, maybe you should rest or something?"  
  
"No. No, I'm... I'm fine. I... I tried to _remember_ something." What was it, though? She got the gist of it. Names, words, all shifting through her head. But none of it made _sense_. She knew Octarian cipher, she knew how to _decode_ it, so why wasn't her brain _cooperating_ with her?! This was the worst way to start her life on the surface, with a mystery her brain was _literally refusing_ to let her take a crack at. This was going to drive her insane, it truly was. "I'm fine."  
  
Three looked at her worriedly. It was oddly relieving. Eight couldn't remember the last time anybody had looked at her like that. "Haahh," Three exhaled loudly. She sounded distinctly upset about something. "God, this is fucking stupid... Fine. I'll trust you on that. But if you start feeling like shit again, then you need to tell me. You just... You just _shut down_." Oh. Was it that concerning? Honestly, it didn't _sound_ too bad to Eight, but then maybe this was just an Inkling thing? Food for thought.  
  
Eight smiled weakly and pushed past. "Can we go? I... I want to go outside. I want to see the sun."  
  
Three nodded. "Yeah. Probably best we get going now. Walk through the storm, and all that." She walked into the kitchen and pulled a transparent bag from a cupboard and shoved the illegal chunks into it. Then, she grabbed a large satchel, threw the bag in there alongside a ring with two keys on it and a small flat case with a picture of a squid on it, and exhaled loudly. While she did that, Eight grabbed the ten tickets that she'd gotten from Iso Padre and stuffed them into the pocket of her pants. "Come on."  
  
And out the door they went. Locked the door, down the stairs, and Eight practically oozed relief the moment the sun touched her skin again. Warmth. Such a weird feeling. In the underground, temperature was carefully regulated through domes. Never too cold, never too hot. Even without having felt the difference, you could just _tell_ how artificial it was, how fake everything was. Trees, food, air, all recycled and fake and plastic. Living on the surface was... Real.  
  
The place that Three lived in, which she had mentioned was called Navy Port, was a mess. There was no regulation, no pattern, to meaning to any of the buildings here. It was disorganized to a fault, concrete rectangular prisms connected to sloping roofs and black spiked fencing connected to carefully chiseled stone artpieces disguised as buildings. It was a total mess, it made no sense at all, and Eight thought she was genuinely in love with it. "It's so beautiful. I want to live here forever."  
  
Three blushed again, her cheeks turning a pleasant dark orange. "Well, uh. That's. Feasible." Yes! Eight wrapped her arms around Three and gave her a hug. It was a bit difficult, seeing how even without her heeled boots she was still a head taller than Three was, but she managed it. Three let out a stream of noises that Eight wasn't fully capable of understanding. "Anyways! Anyways. We, uh. Had better get to the station."  
  
"Oh yeah. I forgot to ask yesterday. The intercom voice mentioned lots of those stops." Eight pushed down her excitement for a moment and focused. Knowing how Inkopolis used its transit would help her get used to life on the Surface. "How many of those are there? Yesterday, it mentioned ten or so stations... And there's definitely more than that."  
  
Three nodded. "Yup. I'm actually not sure of the full count myself. I don't... I don't think anybody is," she said slowly, sounding deeply troubled by that. She shook her head and sighed. "I do know that there are around a hundred stations, though. All named after colours and other weird shit like that. I usually have to ride to the Plaza, and then hop trains to get onto the Cerise line so I can hop off near Fandango Broadway to get to work most days." That... It sounded very busy.  
  
"It sounds..." Eight thought for a moment. "Complicated."  
  
Three shrugged and made a face that suggested she agreed, yet would use more vulgar language. "Eh. It's sort of the tradeoff for living in a semi-utopia. Everything _works_ , but it's always more fucking complicated than anybody wants it to be." She gave a look that was simultaneously exhausted and furious. "Doesn't help that the," Three raised her voice higher than anything Eight had heard her use. "DIPSHITS AT CITY HALL ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING!"  
  
Several people in the street yelled supportively and yelled things like 'Tell it like it is!' or 'Preach it!' or 'Just go off!' or some other form of acceptance. Eight got the distinct feeling that nobody here liked anybody that worked at this city hall. "You don't seem to like them very much. Are they that bad at their job?"  
  
"No, they're amazing at their jobs," Three replied grumpily. "That's the problem."  
  
... People being competent was a problem? Eight didn't see it. "How? They're competent, aren't they? Then what's the problem?" Because if that was an actual problem up here, Eight was going to march back down into the underground and cry. Well, she wouldn't actually, but she'd tell Three that exact sentiment because this was a really stupid problem.  
  
"Have you ever had to fill in a report?" Three asked. Eight had, so she nodded. Every mission and patrol required a report detailing what happened. It was tedious work, but required for the archives. "Imagine, right now, in your mind. That somebody changed protocol at the highest level. And now you have to redo every single report you've ever done in your life. But because they need it done right now, you only have a month to do it in." Eight purposely did not imagine that because the idea of it made her want to _cry_. A lot.  
  
"Are you actually serious," Eight said angrily. "You can't be."  
  
"That was my life when they pushed the Special Replacement Act into being law," Three explained. The mere act of explaining this to Eight seemed to age the Agent entire _years_ in an instant. Eight's hearts went out for Three's sanity. If somebody told Eight she could get all her personal memories back in exchange for redoing all the paperwork she had ever done, she would probably consider that a poor bargain and say no. "Every single weapon I _ever_ tested. Every single weapon my _team_ tested. Every single weapon I so much as _touched_ for almost two years. I had to redo paperwork for every. Single. One. So did all my coworkers. We basically stopped testing weapons for like a _month_ while we redid _everything_."  
  
"That sounds insane," Eight replied. Because it really, really was. Heck, when Octarians shifted over to digital, they didn't make people redo all their paperwork because that was _really stupid_. "Why? Why would anybody need to do that?! I can't even imagine who the heck does that!" They'd just switched over to the new format, and then started typing up reports from there. No reason to redo everything!  
  
Three put on a voice that she was fairly certain nobody would ever believe. Eight wouldn't believe what she said even if she had no memories at all. "Because somebody might get _hurt_!  Somebody might get _injured_ , or worse, _hit_ by a stray Special!" Three's voice went sugar sweet. "And it would be so very _awful_ if anybody got _hurt_ or _upset_! Don't you _agree_? It's just _best_ if all those _icky awful hurtful_ Specials just went _away_!"  
  
"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard and if I ever have to hear it again I might slap you," Eight replied angrily.  
  
Three pulled her voice back down to the deep and serious tone it'd held before. "I know. So all the Specials we had got banned... Problem is, Squidforce regulations say that all weapons need a Special. So nobody could go Splat Battling for a month while we authorized new ones to be reproduced, and then we had to retest _every new Main-Sub-Special combo_ to make sure they were balanced. Following that, we then had to do paperwork for _each and every one_. And you know what happened? The IWTA fixed _every goddamn problem_ that City Hall made, and then we got slammed in the fucking press _because we didn't fix it fucking fast enough for their goddamn liking!_ "  
  
This sounds like a nightmare in every sense of the word. Eight had never been more glad that she hadn't lived on the surface prior to this. It's a catastrophe. "I have no idea what to say to that."  
  
"Nobody does," Three replied. "I think a few of us actually cried over the whole thing. Anyway, that's my fucking story about how City Hall is fucking stupid and needs to be stopped. But yeah, Inkopolis rail is fucking confusing and I fucking hate it. I have exactly one goddamn train route memorized, and it's how I get to my job so I can deal with my shitty coworkers."  
  
Well. That was... A trainwreck in any sense of the word. Eight shook her head in disbelief, because the Surface couldn't really be this overwhelmingly stupid, could it? "At least you got some work experience out of it?" she offered. Because you couldn't really say anything else without sounding like a total jerk in this scenario. "And at least it happened then, instead of today, where you'd have to deal with it after finishing up with Kamabo."  
  
It seemed to mollify Three to some extent, so HURRAH! Diplomacy. Eight is so good at diplomatifying. That's a real word. Shut up. "True. I'd rather go into that fully alert and aware rather than barely aware like I am right now." The train station popped into view around the corner. Good, they were almost there! "Though... If I had to go into it like this, I'd have an excuse to pass out occasionally and not get yelled at."  
  
"That's a dark thought," Eight replied.  
  
"I'm a dark person," Three grumbled. "Now come on."  
  
Up on the train station, Three ordered two tickets for a place called Marigold Gate and handed one to Eight. "So... What is Arowana like?"  
  
Three made a sound that was distinctly grumpy. "Noisy. And filled with people. Decent stuff though."  
  
Hm. Food for thought. "Hey. Three?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you. For... For helping me."  
  
Three looked away and exhaled. "No problem."  
  
A loud ding-ding-ding rang out. _"The train on - Platform One - stops all stations to - Mahogany Road - starting with - Sapphire Park - followed by - Azure Square. Amber Station. Coral Junction. Orange Boulevard. Vermillion Street. Marigold Gate. Gold Street. Tangerine Avenue - concluding with - Persimmon Farms."_  
  
The train glided into the station without a sound. So much smoother and calmer than the rattling contraptions Eight had gotten used to during the Metro. She slipped her hand into Three's. Just for... Just to _know_ she wasn't still down _there_. It'd take her a while to remember that Kamabo was done with. And that she'd _never_ have to go down there _ever_ again. "I'm on the Surface," she chanted to herself lowly. "And I'm _not_ down there. I'll never be down there _again_."  
  
Three tightened her grip on Eight's hand. "You'll be fine," she promised lowly. "I'm not gonna let you get fucking touched by that place ever again."  
  
"... Thank you, Three."  
  
"Don't mention it."  
  
They walked onto the train together. And if Eight kept holding onto Three's hand after they got off the train, just for comfort... _Well_.  
  
Nobody had to know about that.


	2. Shopping At Arowana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three, pearl and marina in haunting unison: if anything happens to eight i will murder everybody on the planet and laugh just so she smiles again

_Sister dearest fell down too far_  
 _Eyes burned too bright, wrath held too tight_  
 _Her hearts began to burn like stars._  
  
 _A mind so clear broken by hate,_  
 _Eyes all alight, so full of might_  
 _I can see that you were once great._  
  
 _We just wanted you to be safe_  
 _You brought your Brush, but you were crushed,_  
 _Wanting to prove you were no waif._  
  
 _Encased in a sturdy sphere of glass,_  
 _It broke my heart to see you caught_  
 _Your cold body trembling as I passed._  
  
 _Where love could blossom, spite congeals_  
 _Faced with these thieves, she aims and heaves_  
 _A cluster bomb right in the feels_  
  
 _We were always on the wrong team_  
 _Forget those songs, we were so wrong_  
 _Inklings aren't evil as they seem._  
  
\---

  
  
Eight was simultaneously super excited and totally terrified about today.  
  
On the one hand, her life had improved about as much as was physically possible. She was on the Surface, people cared about her wellbeing, she'd had food that wasn't just three Nutrition Blocks on a plate, she had kicked her cruddy boss in the face and told him to go screw himself, her back was - while still a little bit in pain - not _nearly_ as painful as it had been since she woke up in the Metro, and finally, she was sitting under the warm sun drinking in the rays.  
  
Granted, she was wearing the hood over her face because wow it was bright up here. The few Octolings she'd seen up here were all wearing some kind of sunglasses or hat or hood, because they couldn't handle the sunlight much either. Inklings were super weird.  
  
On the other hand, _terror reigned supreme_. Everything was new and bizarre and unsettling. Like the literal rainbows of clothes and people they'd passed to get to Arowana, or the tinny tones of an intercom buzzing about some new advertisements, or how the stones the ground was made of were uneven so she tripped like eight times on her way in, or the fact that Three was still holding her hand every now and then and _she didn't know what that meant?!_  
  
Eight decided to ignore that, even though it felt really nice and reassuring, because she wasn't entirely sure of how to deal with that or think about that. SO! IGNORING THAT! Arowana was a really nice place! It was made of stone and had lots of colorful banners and flowers and plants! Three had explained that a "Mall" was an assortment of shopping locations inside one larger building? Which was just odd - how did anybody make money if they shared space?  
  
There was also something odd about the whole place, and Eight guessed that if she brought it up, Three wouldn't even understand what she was talking about. Inkopolis Square only had the one exit, a funnelpoint that enemies would have to go through. Navy Port had been random to the point where a newcomer would be totally overwhelmed at the visual level, while residents would just see it as another street. And now Arowana Mall... It was built like a _fortress_. Perhaps it was a fortress in the past. Eight could see it, flower planters high enough to serve as cover, low enough to hop over. Open air, to provide assistance for Superjumps. Multiple levels, all open-air, to provide escape routes.  
  
Once was chance. Twice was coincidence. Thrice was a pattern. It was a somewhat chilling conclusion to reach, but Eight had realized within an hour of arriving at Arowana that Inklings built their city as a living battleground. They probably didn't even realize that they were doing it at all, and that made it all the more scarier. Inklings had made their home into an absolute minefield for anybody who dared to attack them, and they were just screaming it to the heavens. It was... Actually really beautiful, in a way.  
  
Still though... She was kind of put off by all the weird species walking around them. People with hard spiked hair, folks with hardened shells and claws, the weird blobby things with eyes just wandering around through the crowd, things that looked like Salmonid without maddened eyes, creatures with bizarre fish dancing among their tendrils, and countless other creatures. A few of them were even looking back at her... Oh no. Did they... Did they _know_? Did they know she was an Octoling? They couldn't.  
  
Right?  
  
What if they _knew?_  
  
"Oi," Three said loudly. "You still there?"  
  
"Bluh!" Eight yelled as she was forcibly ripped out of her thoughts. Three was looking at her cautiously, though after how she'd apparently broken down this morning with her memories, Eight couldn't really say she was offended by it. "Um. Yeah. I am. Sorry."  
  
"Relax. Just making sure you're still there." Three tapped something on her phone. "Hm. Marina just sent me a text. How she got my goddamn phone number, I will never fucking know. We're meeting your friends by the food court. Apparently they need food."  
  
Oh. That... Okay. "Can I get some food too?"  
  
"You ate like twelve pancakes."  
  
True. However. Eight really liked them. And also, they weren't super filling. "Yeah, but can I?" Eight summoned forth the gifts of her ancestors and smiled as nicely as she could. "Pleeeeeeaaaaase?"  
  
"Fucking hell," Three muttered. "God. Gonna regret this, fine! We can get food."  
  
HAH. HAH. HAH. VICTORY. IS. EIGHT.  
  
Eight looked down at Three for a moment, not because of ego or something but because she was really short, and asked something as cautiously as she could. "Um... Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"What are all these other people?" The question seemed to throw Three off balance. She probably hadn't been expecting a question like that. Eight flinched back at the stare she was getting. It was kind of unnerving. "Uh, I mean! I never saw a vid about anything except Inklings back in the domes so I was just wondering what they all were! That's all!"  
  
Three exhaled. "Fucking... God, I want to hurt somebody badly." She gave Eight a serious look, the kind that made her want to stand taller and pay attention. "Education is important. Inkopolis, and by extension the nation of Cephink, is filled with species that aren't Inklings. Not only is it _criminal_ that you weren't told or taught about them, it's _stupid_ to the point where it's almost setting you up to fail. So pay attention, okay? Consider this a lesson on the world as a whole."  
  
Eight nodded as Three tightened her grip on Eight's hands. "Thank you, Three." She directed her entire attention to Three, and away from the 'Setting you up to fail' comment. That... That idea didn't make her happy at all.  
  
Three blushed and nodded to herself. "Okay so. First things first. It's currently the 21st century of the Modern Mollusc Era. Humanity died out twelve thousand years ago, sealife began evolving eight thousand years ago and it emerged from the ocean six thousand years ago." Okay. Eight knew that, but it was good to have a baseline to agree on. "Roughly speaking, there are around two hundred thousand species of people walking around on land, with around two million still either in the sea or unevolved as a whole. And before you get curious and ask why some creatures didn't evolve like we did, we just don't know why. Anyways, while there are loads of creatures walking around, you can group a lot of species together."  
  
Right... So some things just didn't evolve period? That seemed weird. Eight was no Sci-Ops officer, but she was _pretty sure_ that evolution was a thing that most creatures did. And that some creatures didn't just reeked of conspiracy to her. "I see. So what species _are_ there up here? Ones that are like us, I mean."  
  
"Well, first off, there are Seafolk." Three pointed at a duo of fellows walking past, both of them covered in shiny scales and fins that were just barely translucent, giving off the illusion of hair. One of them was tall and thin, with edged teeth. The other was larger, like a walking wall, with a pointed nose and a mouth that made up almost half of its head. "They're the most plentiful species around. No clue on the exact numbers, but they're basically everywhere you care to take a look. They evolved from fish, and there are a LOT of fish in the sea, so unless there's a family, they're basically one of a kind."  
  
Eight nodded slowly. She'd never even heard of fish before today. "I see... They look kinda pretty." They were all shiny and glowy... Like, Eight wouldn't give up the chance to be an awesome Octoling - but she wouldn't mind if she was a Seafolk, she thought. But on the other hand, they were just... Bleurgh. Walking around with their gills exposed. Salmonids were the same way, but then Salmonids were _really crazy_. Unless Seafolk gills were different from Salmonid gills... Hm. Food for thought. "How are they different from us?"  
  
"They're actually pretty boring!" Three explained. "Some of them have mild toxins for self-defense, but the only real 'ability' they have is that they can breath underwater. They're mostly nomadic, so it's really rare for them to stick around in one place for more than a month or two. Uhhh, they don't have a major religion, but they do have a thing based around community values, they make lots of salad and seafood... Can't really think of anything else important about them other than that. Oh! They're a big reason as to why trade between countries was possible back before we had planes, since they've got almost a full century of experience of fighting Salmonids over everybody else."  
  
That all sounded really important, but all Eight could think about now was a comic book where the superhero had the power of breathing underwater. Also, Salmonids were jerks as always. So nothing majorly important to think about there. "Weird... And nobody gets mad about the Salmonids?"  
  
" _Some_ people, but everyone generally agrees that Salmonids and Seafolk aren't the same thing."  
  
Okay... So she didn't have to worry about sudden bouts of insanity followed by a desperate fight for her life. She could totally do that, but she'd _prefer_ not to. "What else?"  
  
"After that, we've got Urchins." Three waved at a woman barely taller than Eight with a single green eye peering out from under an solid wall of dark red spikes. She was also quite gangly, looking like she'd been stretched out to the point of looking like she'd snap in half if you poked her the wrong way. Other than that though, there was really nothing that stood out about her. "They're... I _think_ the third most plentiful species? Inklings are second, by the by. Urchins are kind of secretive though, so they _look_ like they're actually one of the less populated species. They evolved from sea urchins, which looked a lot like if a Power Egg was covered in spikes."  
  
They looked... Fragile. It was weird ever using that word, she'd never had a cause to use it before in her life. "How are they standing? They look like a slight push will hurt them." On the other hand, the spikes on their head did look really nice. Because dark red was just. Y'know. Aesthetic. And all that jazz. They looked incredibly sharp, too. Possibly used as a weapon... "How dangerous are those spikes on their head?" She really wanted to know.  
  
"They are pretty fragile, yeah. One solid hit and they basically explode." Huh. Why evolve that way? Maybe they just evolved without predators or something... That'd be super weird. "That said, they do have some defenses. The spikes, like you mentioned, are really sharp. Some Urchins break some of their spines off and use them as daggers or swords, but that's... Not something you do if you're sane. Most Urchins hail from Urchina, which I think is just northwest of us? It's the biggest land-mass around these days I think, lots of culture based around fair business and stuff. Not sure about their religion, but I know they have one. They do lots of noodles and bread and stuff, lots of staple foods. Also, while we're on the topic of Urchins. Listen closely."  
  
"Okay," Eight replied.  
  
"Do you see that square symbol on her jacket? The one that has three spikes on each side?" Eight nodded slowly. It looked like four triangles, arranged into a square with three spikes on the outside of each side. "There is _no_ significance to wearing that symbol, or a number of other symbols that aren't similar to it. It is _not_ the symbol of an international smuggling ring, _nor_ of a secret society linked to that smuggling ring. They do _not_ have influence in many nations, they _don't_ have access to countless resources that Urchina doesn't have the politcal clout to touch, and they certainly _don't_ have ties to the United Oceans. So _don't_ worry about them, and _don't_ worry about what they _won't_ do if they decide to talk to you. Which they _won't_ , because they _don't_ exist."  
  
"... I." Eight parsed that entire speech over in her head. Was... Was Three saying that they did, or didn't exist? She kind of got lost in that whole thing. "Okay? Yes. I think I know what you're saying. How do you know about it?"  
  
"I don't. It doesn't exist."  
  
Eight gave Three a displeased look. "I'm not even going to touch that one. Move onto the next one."  
  
Three nodded with a smile. Probably thinking she got one over Eight. But hah! Eight was _wise_ to her games! Three was totally part of that international crime syndicate. "Alright. After that, we've got Crustaceans. Remember Sean, from yesterday? Guy in the food truck?" Oh yeah! Eight remembered that guy. He was weird. It was really weird to think that he didn't really have skin like other people had, just a hard plastic-like shell covering his entire body. Not to mention his massive red claws, and the weird antennae he had. Brrr. "They cover a wide variety of sub-species, crabs, lobsters, crayfish and shrimp. Isopods used to be around as well, but they went extinct some while ago."  
  
... Isopods weren't extinct. She rapidly held that phrase back as she parsed the rest of what Three had said. So these Crustaceans were all different species, but were counted as the same group? How did that work? Unless they had some connecting biology... "How are they all counted as the same group? That doesn't make any sense."  
  
"They're all sea creatures that have some variety of claws, and grow that hardened shell around themselves. Outside the shell, they're pretty squishy and flabby. Weird, I know." So they were weak outside that plasticy shell? That made even _less_ sense than Urchins! _How did any of these species evolve to survive?!_ "Most of them have some serious power on their claws though - I saw Sean peel open a car door with his bare claws once." ... Ah. "Most of them come from Decapoda, which is way west of here. Most folk just call it the Crustacean Union though after that civil war they had. It's barely smaller than Urchina, and they're fairly multi-cultural there. They do have a habit of making stuff way bigger than it has to be though... They follow a religion that I can't remember the name of, but it's got a lot of stuff about rebirth and work ethic and stuff. They make loads of really fatty foods, and they have a tendency to deepfry everything."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
Three thought for a moment before grinning. "Dey all talk in dis weird accent, yeah? Gotta keep up wid the times!"  
  
Eight giggled. "They don't! That's a lie!" That was the worst accent she'd ever heard.  
  
"Dey do! All of 'em, they got dis weird waya speakin', gotta sound like dey're slurrin' all the time! And if ya ask them to speak like a normal person? Aaaahhhh, _fuhgeddaboudit_!" Three continued, a massive smile on her face. "Ey. Ey. Lookit me. Lookit me. Does this face. Look like da face of a liar? No, cause it don't lie!"  
  
They laughed for a few minutes. Oh, this... This was probably offending somebody and they should stop. But honestly, she couldn't care any less right now! This was _hilarious_!  
  
After they calmed down, Eight resumed the topic they'd been on. "Seafolk, Urchins and Crustaceans... That's three. Who else?" She'd counted at least nine weird species walking around...  
  
"After Crustaceans, there are Jellyfish. Or Jellies, as most people call them." Three pointed at a trio of almost identical creatures with blobby heads, chubby torsos, and an assortment of tendrils. They were all some variety of translucent, as Eight could actually see the scenery behind them through their heads. They also had these beady little eyes. Not a figure of speech either, they looked kind of fake - like they were an afterthought. "They all look like that, and they're all kind of... Out there? Not gonna lie, they're all super weird."  
  
"Weird? Weird how?" Because Eight had a whole mess of ideas as to what was weird and what wasn't. Individual rooms for small tasks? Weird. The sensation of actual materials and not just a synthetic substitute? Weird. Food that was just weird circles but was somehow delicious? Weird. Using a Blaster? Weird. What the heck could possibly consitute weird here?  
  
Three sighed. "They didn't actually fully evolve same as everyone else. So they make up for it by trying to imitate other species by stretching and contorting." One of the Jellyfish Three had pointed at suddenly changed its height to equal a passing Urchin. It also bunched up a bunch of its lower tentacles to mimic the idea of having legs. Eight had only blinked, how had it changed so fast?! "Like that. They come from Coronance, which is west of China, east of the Union. They're really small, but they're actually a big trading hub. High fashion, fine art, all the big fancy stuff that costs millions of dollars but isn't worth enough to piss on."  
  
That was certainly a metaphor and a half. "Is it that bad? Do you not like art and fashion?"  
  
"I do, I just don't like how you can draw a single solitary flower pot and suddenly it's worth enough to _bankrupt a small country_. Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah. Coronance is the birthplace of The Current, which is the third most followed religon in the world. It's about being zen and forsaking worldly stress and stuff like that." Hmmm... That sounded interesting, but stress was kind of important? If you were never stressed, then you couldn't destress. Which was the most important part of the day, honestly. "They do loads of pastries, cooked meats, they basically invented pasta and pizza, wine, if it can be fancy and pricy, they make it." She paused for a moment. "Don't get into a fight with a Jellyfish, they will win, they will knock you on your ass, and they will quote Kelp Fighter when they do."  
  
What? How could those little guys get so strong? Unless... Hm. Research was required. Food for though. Wait. How did Three know that? Did she go around regularly fighting people? Outside of Agent work, she meant? Was Agent Three... Secretly a terrible person? SHE HAD TO KNOW. "How do you know that? Do you go around hurting innocent people?"  
  
A look of guilt crossed Three's face. "I used to be a _really_ awful person. And I'm trying to avoid that these days. Anyway. Onto our next topic of discussion. Anemones! Cool dudes from Nemone, every single one." Three pointed at a young man with incredibly pale skin, a head full of subtly moving multi-coloured tentacles and a dark red fish with a single white stripe flickering through their hair. "They are cool. First thing you need to know about them is that they're actually pure carnivores - no veggies for any of them. Second of all, they're all super smart. Never met an Anemone that wasn't."  
  
Hm... So Anemone were the most important members of society. That made sense - the smartest members of society should lead it. "Really? How smart are we talking?" Because there was a vast gulf between 'Smart', 'Clever', and 'Intelligent'. Smart meant you could identify problems and solve them. Clever meant you knew when to fix something before it became a problem. And intelligent meant that you made something so it lacked the capacity to become a problem in the first place. Most people that Eight knew lately fell under smart. Which was _nice_ , because it meant she'd never run into idiots in the first place. "Because there's a difference between smart and intelligent."  
  
Three muttered something in agreement in a somewhat venomous tone. "How smart, uh... Last Anemone I met managed to earn a cool million in under a year because she figured out a process to scrap Abilities that nobody else in six centuries had managed?" Huh. Yeah, that was intelligent. Eight approved. "Now, Anemones _look_ innocent and nice. And that's solely because they have a defense mechanism that nobody can actually defend against. If it touches you, you're done. Try and guess."  
  
A guess, huh? Well... No muscle, so definitely nothing there. No visible claws, teeth weren't sharp enough... "Is it poison of some kind?" she asked curiously. Three nodded with a slight grin. Okay... Well. Skin isn't a good vector for it, clothing would hamper it and anybody going less than covered would be suspected. The tentacles... Maybe. They seemed too large to not be carrying something, same as the tentacles of an Inkling or Octoling. But then, that was obvious... Maybe... "Oh. Is it... Is it the fish?"  
  
"Well done." Three grinned dangerously. "Yeah. Back in the past, Anemone had these little poison harpoons in their tentacles. But the moment they came on land, it kind of became a useless feature - everybody knew they could _move_ , so nobody got close enough to get _caught_. Nowadays, those little harpoons are only good for grabbing things. But the fish? Well. It's not actually a fish. It's a _poison sac with a brain._ " ... Oh. Oh, that was dangerous.  
  
It looked like the most innocent little thing. Barely a threat at all. "How does it work?" Then again, most people would say that about Inklings. And Eight knew that wasn't true.  
  
"Far as I know from binging on Seapedia, the fish contains all the poison that would've gone into the harpoons. If an enemy gets close, the fish can release all that poison in the form of thick mucus. Anemones are immune to the poison, so they can just grab onto strands of it and whip that entire fish around like a flail." Wow... That was probably the _coolest_ thing Eight had ever heard. A defense that everybody knows about, and that nobody can actually fight. "Granted, it's _super_ _illegal_ to just start using poison in public, since people could get really hurt. But in a straight fight? Anemones are crazy dangerous. To be fair, it was basically a necessity to develop that sort of countermeasure. Nemone is... Kind of dangerous."  
  
Oh yeah, Three had mentioned she came from Nemone, hadn't she? "That's where you came from, right?"  
  
"Yup. Nemone! We're further south than anywhere else in the world. Since Anemones are super carnivorous, most sealife doesn't get far inland. So instead, all the creepy crawlies grew up real big and nasty. Most non-Anemones don't head out of Coral Coast as a result. Speaking of Coral Coast, it's a massive interlocking city that grew entirely out of a single coral reef, and when it hits nighttime the entire place glows because it's bioluminescent!"  
  
Wow! That place sounds super beautiful! Something that Eight learned a long time ago: If it glows, it's either a technological marvel or an artistic masterpiece. Either way it's cool! "Really? Wow! I almost wish I could go there... And the whole place just glows?"  
  
"Yeah yeah! Almost like a _star_. All the food is super good there too. Like, it took me _years_ to adjust to non-crappy food like what we get here in Cephink. Lots of finger foods, spreads, meat pies, simple stuff. Maccas was delicious, y'know? Head out with the whole family, get some takeout, have a good meal." Suddenly her face turned tired and sad. Which! No! No sadness! Bad Agent! Three gave a few sharp glances around and dragged Eight forwards until they were in a relatively more empty part of the Mall. She wrenched her hand free of Eight's grip and grabbed Eight by the shoulders. "They call it a religion. The major form of worship in Nemone is a _cult_. The Acolytes of the Eternal Reef. Second most followed religion in the world. They worship the coral reef that Nemone was founded on, and they can get _really violent_ about it. They're all _fucking crazy_. Do not trust anyone who says they're an Acolyte. _Ever_. Got it?"  
  
A cult. Like... Like DJ Octavio had led. With his music. "Yeah. I got it."  
  
"Okay... Just. Remind me later. I'll show you some of their logos and icons. Make sure that you know what sort of bullshit they get up to."  
  
Eight nodded slowly. It seemed like this was something that really unsettled Three... "Is there anyone else I need to know about?" Getting her off this topic would help. Even if Eight did want to know more about it, it'd probably be faster to breach this topic again later.  
  
"After that... There's us. Inklings and Octolings. You're an Octoling, so you know our deal. No bones, we can use ink, shapeshifting, DNA Respawn, all that good stuff. So I can skip to just telling you about the place we live. This is the nation of Cephink, homeland of art. Movies, videogames, music, fashion, you name it, we've got it. And it's all decent stuff instead of the oversold expensive bullshit Coronance tries to push."  
  
"What are movies? Or videogames?" They sounded interesting, but Eight hadn't come across a mention of either of those things in her magazines.  
  
Three gave another long sigh. "We will cover those at a later date. Our major religion is Cephalonism."  
  
"Oh yes! I know about Cephalonism! We had our own branch down in the domes! Sephahlos, Mother Of Many, Trickster Of The Waves, gave birth to eight children." Their actual names varied from text to text, so nobody really agreed on what they were. Eight wasn't particularly religious either, so their names entirely escaped her at the moment. "Four clashed against four, and Sehpahlos became so mad with grief over her family fighting, she leapt into a volcano and fried herself alive."  
  
Religion wasn't her thing, but gosh if it didn't sound _cool_ sometimes. "Yeah, that's about it," Three replied. "Though it is a little different up here. Sephahlos wasn't ashamed that her family was fighting, she was ashamed they were fighting _fairly_." Hmm... Yeah, that also sounded right. She was named the Trickster, after all.  
  
"What about the food? Is it all delicious and yum?" She hoped it was!  
  
"Yeah. Inklings do loads of stuff with rice and meat, mostly sushi and fish. Some sweets too. But mostly, it's kind of similar to Urchinese food. Staple foods, noodles, bread. Aaaand... I think that's everybody..." Three counted off on her fingers slowly. "No. Wait. We're almost done. Cephink, the Seafolk, Urchina, Decapoda, Coronance and Nemone make up the six largest populations and nations of the world. But there are a lot of species with lesser populations than us - Raygills, Eeloids, Whalers, all races with loads of people, just not enough to be on the same level as us. Together, those sixty two species make up the Alliance, which is any species that doesn't fall into anything I've mentioned earlier."  
  
Understandable. Not everyone could be at the top of the food chain. "So Inklings, Seafolk, Urchins, Crustaceans, Jellyfish, Anemones and the Alliance .That makes seven. Is that all of the species in the world?" Better be. Eight was already trying to process and organize all this in her head.  
  
"No, there are a few outside of that. However, those seven groups make up the United Oceans. Which is the international organization dedicated to making sure we don't go to war and decimate ourselves into oblivion like the humans did. It's a bit finicky at times, there are arguments..." Three smiled. "But I think it's a lot better than anything else we could have."  
  
Huh. So the Squidbeak Splatoon wasn't the only group out there making sure things didn't go wrong? Cool! "Awesome... We didn't have anything like that back in the domes. Is that it?"  
  
"Kinda, yeah. Salmonids are a topic for..." She inhaled sharply. "For later. No offense, but this is a day where we're helping you. And if I talk about Salmonids, I'm probably going to ruin _everything_ with my shitty mood." Hm... Eight wanted to know what that was about. It didn't sound entirely healthy. But she supposed that everybody deserved to keep some secrets. "Anyways. We're here."  
  
They stopped under a large sign that said 'Food Court' in big yellow letters. "Oooh! Can we get lunch?! Can we can we can we?!"  
  
"Yeah, I said we could afford a few pitstops. Gotta wait for your friends to get here too."  
  
YES. Aw, she was gonna eat so many things!  
  
Twenty minutes later, Eight had eaten loads of food and felt really odd.  
  
"What is this feeling? My stomach feels all... Bluh." This was a really weird feeling, and while she super liked it it wasn't something she was totally familiar with. It was like she was existing, but in simultaneously the best and worst way. "It's kinda like there's a big rock in it." Everything just felt kind of awful. Her throat was all goopy and she was feeling kinda gross and just kind of bluuuergh.  
  
"It's called being full," Three said in an odd way. It was kind of nice but also just short of laughing. In the time it'd taken Eight to eat all of her delicious food, Three had only managed to eat half of everything she'd ordered - something called a cheeseburger, fries, some orange-gold things called hash browns, and a cup of orange juice. "Your body is telling you that you've eaten too much and you need to digest it." That was a really stupid idea because Eight still had six temnodontosaurus donuts left to eat and _nobody_ was allowed to touch them except for Eight. They were hers.  
  
Her property. HER PREY. NOM NOM NOM. "Thash a weal dumb ibea," Eight mumbled through the severed head of one of her donuts. "Itsh dumb, an' youw dumb fa thinkin' it."  
  
"This is how some people die, you know. Overeating."  
  
"Worth it!"  
  
So as it turned out, if Eight was ever forced to return to the Octarian military she'd kill herself because no freaking way she was ever going to return back to Nutrient Blocks. Never. Actual flavour! Actual taste! So delish! She'd had at least one of everything from every shop in the food court by now. Yeah, some of it had meat in it, and meat was derived from actual sea creatures (Unevolved, Three had been quick to explain) but y'know what? Y'know what? This was real. Real meat. So little unevolved fishies under the sea could goshdarn throw her off a roof because they were YUMMY and Eight would gladly EAT THEM INTO OBLIVION. NO MERCY FOR TINY FISH.  
  
NOM NOM NOM.  
  
She'd had something called a wrap, which was a bit of bread that wrapped around vegetables and meat, and that was nice. Well. She'd actually had four of those. She'd also had some noodles covered in something called aioli sauce? They were delicious and Eight had two servings of that. Then she'd had some sushi and that was like a wrap but even better because it had rice in it and Eight thought rice was fairly good. It was all good. Then she'd had deep-fried fish and chips and they were all crunchy and warm and oily and she liked them too! And then Three had seen a place called McDarters and said that "Fuck everywhere else, we're getting some decent fucking food! God damn, I love this country!" And then they'd gotten some burgers that had tomato sauce and cheese and stuff on them.  
  
And just a few minutes ago, Three bought her a twelve pack of donuts shaped like a temnodontosaurus with various toppings like icing and sprinkles and glaze! She'd given Three all the chocolate ones because she didn't trust that cursed topping anymore, not after the Galactic Shwaffle, but the rest were hers! The only problem was that the glaze kept sticking to her fingers and she had to lick it all off.  
  
Three kept blushing while she did that too, which was... Did she _really_ like her burger or something?  
  
"AYO! MC PRINCESS IN THE HOUSE!"  
  
"Pearl! Keep your voice down!"  
  
Oh! Yay! Yay yay yay! "Pearl! Marina! Over here! Here!"  
  
"Well, somebody's awake," Marina joked. "Pearl, could you..."  
  
Pearl didn't even stop as she dashed past. "Yeah yeah, I got it! Healthy food! Good to see you up, Eight!"  
  
"You too! Hi Marina." Yes! Marina was here! Eight didn't want to sound at all offensive, but she felt vastly more safe with another Octoling nearby. "How was your morning?"  
  
Marina sighed and brushed her tentacles out of her face. "Busy. Announcing stages, reading the news, trying to pretend we have absolutely no idea of what that big statue in the bay is, we swear. Bluh." BLUH. Another convert of the great word! "How was your morning?"  
  
"I ate lots of food!" Because honestly, it was the only part of her morning that wasn't. Y'know. Terrible and filled with memories in letters that she couldn't decode without her brain starting to melt. "Oh! And apparently all the stuff I got out of that vending machine is worth something! I'm rich!"  
  
"Well... It's..." Marina paused awkwardly. "Good to hear you got _something_ good out of all that?"  
  
"Chunks, Crust Bucket tickets and money," Three replied as she finished off her burger.  
  
Eight nodded as she tore into another donut, this one with sprinkles and strawberry icing. A fusion of great tastes has rendered all other foods deceased. None shall emerge victorious over Donut Prime. And it shall not emerge victorious over Oh Holy Eight, Deity Of Devouring. NOM. "Yup. I got forty Chunks, a load of tickets for that Crust Bucket place, and sixty thousand in cash."  
  
"Not bad... Certainly some money to keep for a rainy day." Marina seemed impressed, so that probably was a lot of money. "Oh, yes. I meant to ask you! Do you have a weapon preference?"  
  
Did _she_ have a weapon preference? Did _Eight_ have a _weapon preference?_ Aha! Aha! It is to _laugh_! Of _course_ she had a preference! "Shooters. Automatic, I tried the semi-automatics once and they just felt weird." What else, what else... Oh yeah. "Rollers are too heavy for my liking. Chargers are slow to charge. I can use them, but I'm not a fan of Sloshers. Spray is too unpredictable. Splatlings are fine, but again, too heavy and too slow. I'm neutral on Dualies and Brellas are fine, but only the Shield variety. I prefer my shield to stay attached to me, thanks. Wait. Why?"  
  
Three smiled. "Don't tell me."  
  
"We're gonna set you up for some Splat Battles!" Marina cheered.  
  
"Oh! Are those the things that Three told me about yesterday?" A sport of some kind. She still didn't get what it was, exactly. But she knew it was important.  
  
Marina nodded. "Yup! We're gonna get you all ready and kitted out! Splat Battles are something of a tradition up here, not to mention fantastic stress relief." OH. OH YEAH. Eight could go for some serious stress relief right now. Just. All of it. Give it to her. _All_ the stress relief. "Me and Pearl figured you could go for some care-free fun after everything."  
  
The next few moments were kind of a blur. All Eight remembered was hugging Marina and choking on the current donut in her mouth. "Thank you!" Was that a squeal? She hoped it wasn't a squeal. She liked to think she was more professional than that. "When are we going? Are we going now? I thought we were going shopping."  
  
"We're doing all of that!" Marina laughed. "Finish your donuts, and I'll explain."  
  
"Explain what?" Pearl asked as she sat down at the table. She passed Marina a large box - oh, that was the stuff from the sushi place - and pulled out a large box of fries from that McDarters place. "Oh yeah, mornin' Eight! Good to see you! Man, you ate a lot, huh?" It wasn't that much! She just had one of everything from everywhere! And she wasn't being greedy! She was eating her donuts instead of going back for seconds! Speaking of... Nom.  
  
"Morning!" Eight replied through a mouthful of donut. "And it wasn't a lot! I just had one thing from everywhere and that's it!"  
  
Three sighed loudly. "She's eaten more _today_ than I have in _two months_."  
  
Pearl shrugged. "Could be worse. Marina ate an entire bakery out of its stock once."  
  
"I was hungry!" Marina said defensively as she chewed into a roll of sushi. "Don't make fun of me!"  
  
Eight nodded furiously. "Yeah!" She gave Marina a high five without even looking at her. Octoling solidarity. Gotta uphold it.  
  
"Whatevs. Anyways!" Pearl opened her mouth and seemed to less eat and more inhale a handful of fries. Weird. "Eight! How was your morning?"  
  
Eight repeated everything she'd mentioned to Marina. She very pointedly did not tell either of them about her weird memory thing this morning. "But it was fine. Better than I thought, actually. Beds are comfortable." Hecks yeah they were. Good words, brain.  
  
"Oooh, they super are!" Pearl cackled. "Me and Marina have this _massive_ king-sized bed? It basically fills half the room. We ever have to move out, it is gonna be impossible to bring with us. But we basically live in a permanent pillow fort. It's so cool!" That did sound cool but also what was a pillow fort? Didn't sound structurally sound or safe. That was the thing about forts, they had to be sound for you to work in. You have to use a decent material when working, kids.  
  
"Oh yesh! Piwwow for'! Tha besh!" Marina cheered as she popped another sushi roll into her mouth. She swallowed and grinned widely. "We propped up this big sheet over the bed and then covered the bed with pillows and blankets. We own like a hundred of both, so it's always cozy."  
  
Wow... That sounded neato. Eight actually liked that idea. "Awesome! Three! Can I have a pillow fort?" Pearl and Marina started snickering for some reason. Three sputtered before collecting herself and visibly thinking to herself. After almost exactly twenty seconds, she nodded silently and finished off her burger. "Yes!" Yeah! Pillow Fort! Whatever that actually happened to look like or be! _Yeah!_  
  
"The key to a good pillow fort," Pearl emphasized seriously. "Is materials. First off, you want to have a roof on that fort. Light blankets, or bed sheets. Both of 'em work fine. But you don't want it too high, either. You want it just low enough that it's cozy, but not too low that you feel cramped. It's a delicate balance, y'know?"  
  
"The roof is only the beginning though," Marina said with a serious face. "Once you have a roof, you need to create walls. Usually, if the sheet you used for the roof is big enough, you can let it fall to the ground to work as makeshift walls. You need to leave one wall open and uncovered, so you can get out. Once you've created the basic framework of a pillow fort, you can begin furnishing it." That made some sense. Can't build a weapon without the frame, after all.  
  
"Once you've made the basic fort, you need to fill it with stuff." Pearl gave a serious look as she ripped another mouthful of fries from the packet with her teeth. "Put some blankets at the bottom of the fort to act as a makeshift floor. It's necessary to make yourself comfortable!"  
  
"Then drag in as many blankets and pillows as you need to make yourself comfortable!" Marina demanded. "The perfect fort can only be achieved in harmony with perfect comfort!"  
  
"Of course!" Pearl replied. "And bring friends! Pillow forts aren't fun without friends." Right! Eight mentally etched these details into her mind. Create a roof out of sheets! Use those same sheets to create walls! Use a blanket to create a floor! Fill the fort with pillows and blankets! Combine with comfort to achieve goal!  
  
Now... She had to ask the only remaining question. " _What_ is the point," Eight asked seriously. "Of a pillow fort?"  
  
"To make out with cute girls!" Pearl declared seriously.  
  
"To-- Wha?! Pearlie!" Marina sputtered with a neon green blush.  
  
... Ah. Okay... "Question," Eight replied.  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"Nonononono, Pearl! Go back to what you just said!"  
  
"Does it have to be just cute girls?" This was an important question. A question asked for the sake of SCIENCE. No other reasons. At all. "Or can it be cute... _Ladies_?"  
  
Pearl threw her feet onto the table they were seated at and gave a teeth-filled grin. "Now we're talking."  
  
"No! Pearl! What are you talking about?" Marina said indignantly. "You're lying to Eight!"  
  
What? She _was_? "She is?"  
  
Marina nodded authoritively. "She is. Pillow forts are for _romancing_ cute girls."  
  
... Oh. That made... An unfortunate amount of sense. "So pillow forts are for seduction purposes," Eight clarified uncomfortably. It. It sounded nice? But she wasn't. _Super_ into the idea of seduction or anything? Like, relaxing and having fun sounded nice. But the whole... _idea_ of seducing somebody was. No. She wasn't into that. She was Front-Ops, darn it!  
  
For some reason, Pearl and Marina were babbling nonsense. They weren't nodding, so... Had Eight been wrong? Meanwhile, Three had chosen this moment to burst into a fit of psychotic laughter. It was a deep and vast noise, a shrieking fit of megalomaniacal cackling that would children screaming. It was quite... _Intriguing_.  
  
"A pillow fort is for _relaxing_ ," Three said after almost a solid minute of laughter. "Watching TV and eating junk food."  
  
Oh. That made much more sense.  
  
But then why had Pearl and Marina said that it wasn't for that? "They're both lying to me, aren't they?"  
  
"Little bit," Three agreed. She then proceeded to slam her fist down on the table, grabbing both Pearl and Marina's attention while leaving a small dent in the wood. Wow. That. Um. Okay. Eight. Yeah. She was. That. _Totally okay with this_. Yup. Wow. "Oi. Stop talking about pillow forts and more talk about what the fuck we're doing today. Because I will leave if I fucking have to, swear to god." Awww... Eight wanted to hear more about pillow forts.  
  
Pearl cleared her throat. "Yeah yeah, keep your fucking shirt on."  
  
"Uh, obviously? This shirt is worth more than the lives of every man woman and child in a ten mile radius." Three pointed at a distinct bit of script beneath the wavy letters. It was very unclear what it said though - it looked more like a bit of glittery blue art than a word. "This shirt was signed by the _one and only_ Sammy Fins, in permanent ink." Eight had no idea who that was.  
  
"Yooo! You for real?!" Pearl squealed.  
  
"Hells yeah I am. During their 2010 Coral Coast concert. It was my birthday present before my family moved here to Cephink. Sammy Fins on vocals and trumpet, Hilda Love on bass, Victor 'Moonlight' Lang on clarinet, Shelly Davis on drums, Loretta 'Seafloor' Jennings on piano, Henry Ceph on sax, and Delores Burks on trombone." A wide grin appeared on Three's face. Which. Eight was. The. Argh. Bluh. "They did the entirety of Hello Darlin' live without a single fault, and it was freakin' _awesome_."  
  
"Isn't that like a twenty minute long song?!"  
  
"I _know_!"  
  
Pearl and Three squealed over their admiration of a band that Eight had never heard of for about a minute before remembering they had an audience. In a stunning display of simultaneous movement, they cut the smiles off their faces and resumed their careless demeanour. "Anyways. Keep your shirt on, Three. We were getting to it." It was almost like they'd never had the whole moment. Eight was glad they did though. It was nice to see people smiling. "Eight. Once me and Marina finish our meals, we'll start on the shopping adventure of a freakin' lifetime!"  
  
Oh! Yay! She could hardly wait! "Really?"  
  
"Yeah. And when we do, we'll get you outta the _monstrosity_ of an outfit that Three loaned you." Eh. Eh. She was kind of used to it now. It was a bright pink hoodie that said FO REALZ on it, a pair of black pants that didn't really fit, and a pair of orange and blue shoes. She didn't think she looked too bad, to be honest. "Because... That is. The exact opposite of those test clothes you were wearing. There is. Zero style worth talking about here." Aw.  
  
Marina nodded. "Mm. First store we hit, we'll get you some clothes that fit for you to walk around in." Oh. That would be nice. Everything Three had given her was just kind of fitting. "Who knows? Maybe we'll instill a sense of fashion within you."  
  
Fashion sounded nice, but she didn't know if her brain had _capacity_ for a sixth sense. Maybe if she discarded her sense of smell? It'd been the least useful in the last couple of days. All it'd let her smell was her own blood and also the terrible smells of that green ink. So yeah, she'd trade that off for a sense of fashion.  
  
"We're taking a bit of a weird route through the Mall," Pearl warned. "So it's entirely possible that we might get super lost." Eh. Eight was already super used to feeling lost. So hey, at least they'd all be lost and terrified together.  
  
Marina held out her phone for Eight to look at. "We're going to head down towards the bottom of the Mall, work our way back up, and then back down towards the exit to hit every store we can." Okay... So that was... Wow. According to the map she was showing Eight, that meant they were going to walk the entire length of the Mall. Eight wasn't super sure how she felt about that. "After that? We're gonna drive over to the Square and let you try some Splat Battles." Stress relief. Eight could really go for some good fights right now. Heck yeah.  
  
"We'll head to The Reef sometime after that and hook you up with some sweet-ass gadgets," Pearl continued. "A sweet-ass phone, maybe some stuff to make you feel more at home while you're rooming with Three." Oooh... Heck yeah. Technology would always make her feel more at home.  
  
"I am more than happy for you to decorate my apartment under the pretense of buying yourself things," Three said carefully. Which was... Good? Was she hearing that right? Maybe she wasn't, but _whatever_. She was on the Surface, she had the rest of her life to figure out social cues like that. Maybe that wasn't a mature response to have, but Eight could roll with it.  
  
"After that, it'll probably start getting dark," Marina explained. "So we'll probably hit MakoMart for some snacks, a cheap DVD or two, maybe a few other things, and then we head to wherever Three lives for a sleepover for your first real night on the surface!"  
  
Three gave a sound that wasn't quite grumbling, but definitely fell somewhere between grumpiness and genuine anger. "You three will be buying snacks." Three sat up properly and sighed. "I'll be buying _actual_ food so we don't starve."  
  
"Sweet! Eight, are you up for it!"  
  
HECK. YES. Eight was all over this plan. She nodded viciously and gave a smile. For some reason, Three started blushing again. Was it maybe a medical condition? It probably wasn't healthy to just randomly start blushing like that.  
  
Marina finished off her sushi and exhaled. "Alright. Are we ready to go, ladies?"  
  
Pearl threw her head back, opened her mouth, and then let the remainder of her fries literally fall into her waiting maw. It reminded her a lot of Salmonids, actually. "Fuck yeah, we are!"  
  
Eight nodded. "Yes! Let's go!" She gave a serious stare at Pearl. "No swearing."  
  
"Aw, seriously? Marina, don't tell me all Octarians are such swearing police!"  
  
"It's true. Genetically encoded into our DNA," Marina lied with a straight face. "We all despise swearing with the force of a million suns."  
  
"S... Seriously?"  
  
Three sighed and slurped down the remainder of her orange juice. "They're fucking with you."  
  
"God damn it! _Reena_!"  
  
" _Pearlie_! Look, I can say your cute name patronizingly too."  
  
"REENA!" Huh. So Pearl blushed pink? Weird.  
  
Three shook her head. "Let's just go already. God, it's like having three fucking Callies all at once."  
  
That would be pretty cool. But _only_ if there were an equal amount of Maries. But wait. That would mean cloning! And Eight was not cool with the subject of cloning. No. That level of genius would forever go unequaled in nature. The only thing that could ever improve on the Squid Sisters was if they were also dancing queens...  
  
Eight allowed herself to float off into a wonderland dream about three sets of Squid Sisters all dancing and singing at the same time. It was pretty sweet.  
  
"Hey!" Pearl interrupted. Which. RUDE. "You coming?"  
  
"Oh! Yes! Coming!"  
  
They'd walked out of the first store with barely anything. The only things they'd bought there had been a set of clothes that actually fit for Eight, a pair of creamy white shoes, a fresh pair of pants, and a bright yellow shirt. "I can't believe she doesn't have to wear the fucking headband," Three grumbled.  
  
"That's a tourist trap," Pearl said dismissively. Three was notably silent. "Are you _fucking serious._ "  
  
"I will set your house on fire if you say another word," Three threatened. "You fucking tiny gremlin."  
  
"OH, YOU WANNA GO?! CAUSE I AM WILLING TO GO!"  
  
"FUCKING BRING IT, BRAT!"  
  
"OKAY!" Marina interrupted loudly with a forced smile. A wise decision, given how Pearl and Three looked like they were on the verge of murdering each other for some reason. "So! Let's see how many shops there are to hit! There are eight clothing stores in Arowana Mall, and that was one off the list! Only seven left!"  
  
Pearl nodded quickly. "Oh yeah. Eight! Forgot to ask! What's your favourite colour? We'll find some clothes in the shade you like best!"  
  
Her... Favourite colour? Well. That was a complicated question. She liked red, but that was just because her ink defaulted to that colour naturally. It was nice. Black was cool too, but only in moderation. The more black you wore, the more foolish you looked. Pink and green were awesome! But she wasn't sure how much of that was _actually_ her liking the colours and how much was her liking the Squid Sisters. So that was a lost cause, just. Woosh! Out the window.  
  
A word popped into her head. Tomorrow morning, she would _greatly_ regret saying this out loud and begin screaming. Three would wake up to ask what the problem was, and then Eight would scream _louder_. Because her mind hated her.  
  
"Orange!" And she just so happened to be looking at Three. She averted her eyes immediately, but she could just tell that both of them were blushing super hard right now. Darn it Eight! Why didn't you say literally any other colour! Like blue! You like blue! Or white! White is neato! Or purple, like Three's eyes! Wait. No. Darn it. Stop. _Frrrghghrh_. "I mean purple! I mean!" This sucked. Today was stupid. Just. End it. Advance time 24 hours. Reset the clock. Oh gosh. Everything was awful.  
  
Pearl and Marina were laughing.  
  
God was laughing.  
  
She was going to die. Oh no.  
  
"That. Um. Guh. You." Three coughed awkwardly. Which was appropriate. "That's. Mmmhmm. Uh. Yeah." If she was still in basic training, her teachers would have killed her for relating to an Inkling so much.  
  
"Today is amazing," Pearl told Marina. "I'm _so glad_ that it's happening right now."  
  
"LET'S GO TO THE NEXT STORE," Eight said. She certainly didn't yell. And she certainly wasn't changing the topic at all. Shut up.  
  
The second store - the first one they actually spent more than three minutes in - was a larger store by the name of Shorefront. There wasn't really any concrete way to define it other than Clothing Store. Really, that was about it. The amount of personality it had was concentrated solely in the bright blue sign and whimsical font. It had some kind of music playing through speakers, a tune that everybody agreed was incredibly generic and most likely derivative of something, but nobody could quite agree on what it was derivative _of_.  
  
"I can't believe this place is still open," Marina said curiously. "Didn't they have that OSHA issue a few months back?"  
  
"You're thinking of Shoreline," Pearl replied. She looked at Eight and gave a big toothy grin. "Okay! Let's actually start shopping! You ready?"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
As it turned out, Eight was not ready. _At all_. What was being ready about? Who knew! Clearly not Eight. See, Eight liked wearing new clothes. It was nice. But being told to actually pick out individual pieces of clothing? Having to make sure those pieces of clothing actually matched in any sort of way? Choosing a specific colour of the exact same piece of clothing? It was insane. It was madness. Torture. According to Marina, some people "Do this sort of thing for fun!" Fun. _FUN?!_ What the heck was wrong with Inklings. No, what the heck was wrong with the Surface?  
  
After about ten minutes, she finally managed to pick out some combination of clothing. She was directed into a... Changing Room? (Did the Surface have a room for everything?) And tried the new clothing on. It wasn't awfully bad. The tags said that it was a... Octoking HK Jersey, a pair of Red Power Stripes (According to Marina, Stripes were a type of shoe?) and a Black Fishfry Bandana. Eight stared into the mirror and adjusted the bow on her head. Hm.  
  
The moment she walked out, Pearl and Marina were nodding slowly. "Ooh! That's a really good look!" Marina nodded excitedly. "It suits you!"  
  
"Yeah, totally. It looks hella sweet!" Pearl gave a thumbs up. "That totally fits you!" It didn't look like it did, really.  
  
Three looked up from her phone. "You look like you woke up and decided to go fight a pack of ravers in a crowded nightclub." Eight had no idea what a goth was, but she got the idea.  
  
"It's not bad," Eight confessed. "Can we get this one too?" Was she allowed? She knew that the whole point of this trip was to get her clothes, but... She already had a set. Was she allowed more than one set?  
  
Pearl nodded rapidly. "Yeah, totally! Whole point of this trip is to get you a bunch of clothes!"  
  
"Question. My wardrobe--" Three asked.  
  
"Closet," Eight interrupted.  
  
Three gave her an annoyed look. "My WARDROBE barely fits my own clothes. Where are we fitting Eight's?" It was a closet. A wardrobe wasn't inside the wall, it was an unattached unit! A closet was _inside_ the wall, and was therefore the correct word!  
  
Marina hummed for a moment. "Oh! The Reef sells clothing racks! We can buy one or two there!"  
  
"Fucking rad. Carry on."  
  
Eight sighed. "I almost had a heart attack trying to pick out just this, though..." She wouldn't be able to do it again. Because she was an idiot. She had no idea how she even managed it in the first place... Why was she even here? She was too stupid to figure this out. "I don't..."  
  
Marina smiled comfortingly and stood up. She wrapped an arm around Eight's shoulders. "Don't worry, okay? I felt like this when I was shopping for the first time."  
  
"Yeah! And you've got us to help, okay?" Pearl hopped over and gave Eight a hug. "Relax! I got your back!"  
  
Three gave a despairing sigh. "Can't dress any worse than I do. Trust me, you've got a decent sense of style in your head. Don't worry too hard about it. Fashion is inherently useless anyway."  
  
... Breath in. Breath out. Stress in, stress gone.  
  
Okay. Don't worry about it. Don't stress about it. "Can you help me?" She got three smiles in response. Marina and Pearl whisked off and immediately pulled out outfits within the space of two minutes. Wow... So this was the power of Fashion Sense? Not bad at all. Meanwhile, Three continued to tap at her phone, apparently still on the hunt for a store that sold cloaks. Eight decided to try on the outfit Pearl gave her first, a Grape Hoodie, a pair of Bubble Rain Boots, and something called Octoglasses. It fit fairly well, actually. The hoodie was like the one Three had loaned her, but without the FO REALZ slogan on it.  
  
Pearl nodded enthusiastically. "Yooo, not bad! What did I tell ya!"  
  
"I like those boots, yeah..." Marina smiled and nodded. "Those glasses work fairly well."  
  
"You look like a mascot for a fruit-based commercial in the late nineties," Three offered.  
  
"You look cool!" Pearl translated.  
  
"What she said."  
  
Eight looked herself over. "I like the top and shoes, but I'm not a fan of the glasses." They were too gaudy and blocky for her liking. Not to mention the frames were too short for her to actually wear them - they either sat on her head, or she didn't wear them. Fashion was confusingly pointless, and every continuing moment seemed to reaffirm that to her. "Are you sure that I look cool?"  
  
"Hell yeah!"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"It's decent." Pearl and Marina gave a dangerous glare. " _Fine_. It's cool. Don't know why I'm here if I'm not going to be _honest_."  
  
While they were bickering, Eight tried on the outfit that Marina had put together. Just feeling it made her fingers feel so weird. According to the tags, it was a dark blue Jungle Hat - which she liked, camo patterns were always stylish - a pair of... Purple Sea Slugs? (Marina would later tell her that 'Sea Slugs' were simultaneously animals, a sapient species like Octolings, and a type of shoe. She almost understood why Three and Pearl sweared so much.) And a fluffy green jacket with a weird pattern to it. The fabric felt all soft, but like in a weirdly tough way.  
  
"Of course, I knew that a Jungle Hat would suit you." Marina nodded confidently, and gave a smug smile. "I think that this really suits you."  
  
"It actually does." Pearl sounded a little shocked. "I never thought anybody could pull off wearing a Matcha Down Jacket, but hey. Goes to show."  
  
"You look like an overly fancy jellybean," Three said calmly. "Who has just decided to go on a hike to Decapoda to enrage a controlling mother." ... Eight had no idea what to say to that. She was just. She was just gonna let that one slide.  
  
Pearl made a few noises. She went 'Hmmm' and 'Haaaah' and generally made a few noises to demonstrate that she wasn't super happy with the outfit. "It'd be way cuter if she had a ponytail."  
  
"Ponytails don't fix everything, Pearl."  
  
"NAME ONE THING, MARINA."  
  
Three paused and blushed bright orange. It was... Very... Interesting to watch. "Hey, Pearl?"  
  
"Yeah? What?"  
  
" _You mind shutting the fuck up maybe?_ " Huh? Why did she want Pearl to stop talking?  
  
Pearl paused and started laughing. Really, really hard. Marina laid a comforting hand on Three's shoulder. It was promptly thrown off so hard Eight was worried for Marina's health. "You two are just adorable, really you are."  
  
"What in the genuine _fuck_ are you talking about. I am not fucking adorable." Eight chose not to think about that sentence too much. If she did, there was a good chance she'd start blushing again and Three would freak out and she didn't want anyone to freak out _who wants to freak out that's a bad idea man don't freak out and don't think about it._ "I am fucking _awesome_. Okay? Not cute. Not adorable."  
  
"Of course," Marina said soothingly.  
  
"Don't fucking use sarcasm against me. That's my sole province."  
  
By the time Three's mood had recovered some, they'd gone through the third and fourth clothes stores. The third one had been called Heaven Jelly and sold all kinds of hats and frilly dresses. Pearl had derided it as 'Wannabe Magical Girl Crap', but it was... Not _all_ bad. Some of it was nice. She liked the hats, they were pointy and fancy. Eight chose not to buy anything there. You hear? She did not buy _anything_ at all. Not a single sparkly frilly dress that was dark purple with pink accents and zippers with a pair of fancy pink gloves that had fake gems on them and purple shoes with pinkish wings attached. She did not buy any of that, not a single stitch.  
  
Anyone who says otherwise is a _filthy liar._  
  
The fourth store had been a larger more colourful place and it had been an awesome place called Thread Throwback! It'd almost like being back in the domes, actually. The clothes were pretty similar! Pearl and Three weren't really awake for it though - they spent most of the time there catatonic. Whatever. Eight was still gonna pick out some nice clothes. An open-chested bright red puffy jacket with broad shoulderpads paired with a neon green tank top, a pair of white pants with a zebra pattern, and a pair of hot pink boots covered in faux fur. It was neato. Marina even got a matching outfit! Eight totally would've worn it out of the store, but it was a bit too warm to be wearing in this weather.  
  
Three and Pearl looked really relieved by that, though she wasn't totally sure of _why_.  
  
On their way to the fifth store, a question popped into Eight's mind. She dug into one of the bags that Three was carrying for her and pulled out a tag. "Hey, what are these stars on the tags? They're on almost everything you bought for me."  
  
"Huh? Oh yeah," Pearl realized. "That's just to judge the Ability rating of the clothing."  
  
Ability rating? Abilities merited a rating system on the Surface?  
  
Three exhaled angrily. "How about you explain it better than that, you bloody gremlin?" She looked at Eight seriously. "It's a way to measure how many Abilities are on a single piece of clothing."  
  
Marina nodded. "Yes... It's a bit odd, and the system tends to be a bit biased, but it's for safety reasons. The more stars a piece of clothing has, the more Abilities the clothing can hold. Sometimes they also indicate the general quality of the item in question, but that's rare."  
  
"I'm not super sure of how it works," Pearl continued. "But it's something like... Urchins take a Super Sea Snail. And then they do something with the Super Sea Snail Protein. I think it's weaving or something. The more stuff they weave in, you get more Abilities. But it's super random which ones you get. So it's way easier to get a 3-Star item, and then just get that thing scrubbed for free chunks."  
  
"The star system has four ratings. I think it's something like... No-Star, 1-Star, 2-Star, and then 3-Star. Any more than that, and you break the law." Marina shrugged. "Other than that? I'm not sure. I was an engineer in Sci-Ops, not a biologist."  
  
Pearl nodded. "No-Star is just regular clothing. Pajamas and casual clothing and stuff. 1-Star is gear that you can buy anywhere. Baseball caps and tees. 2-Star is nearly anything from a specific brand instead of being generic stuff. And 3-Star is all really good. It tends to be really high-quality stuff. And like, most clothes are _made_ for Splat Battles, but anything that's 3-Star is intended to be used by actual professionals in Splat Battles."  
  
Three gave a quiet chuckle. "Sorry, but wrong. The ratings go up to 5-Stars. It's just that anything above 3-Stars is strictly controlled. Most 4-Star stuff is either used by the UO or by military organizations. Stuff like my Hero Suit." An annoyed sigh escaped her throat. "And anything with 5-Stars is automatically seized by the govnerment for research into Super Sea Snails."  
  
"Huh. I had wondered about that," Marina muttered. "I'd heard that 5-Star items existed, but there was nothing on them."  
  
" _Bit_ of an urban legend, yeah." Three shrugged. "That said, there _are_ some pieces of 5-Star Gear floating around out there that haven't been seized."  
  
Wow... Judging from what she'd been told, then most clothing she'd worn had only ever been 1-Star... No wonder Agent Three had been able to crash through their ranks... "So the only reason you beat us at all," Eight asked sneakily. "Was because of that fancy suit?" Hearing Three burst into furious noises was truly hilarious. She'd definitely have to ask questions like that more often, then.  
  
The fifth store they got to was a place by the name of Paint Palette. It looked a lot cleaner than Shorefront, generally speaking. It also had a big fancy sign shaped like a... Oh, _that's_ where the name came from! The isles were clearly marked, there was a nice sort of music floating through and it had gone to some effort to make the store look like the walls were covered in still dripping ink. It was... Nice. The sort of simple and boring design that made you smile.  
  
"I think I want to give picking out clothes another shot," Eight said cautiously. Which. Pure insanity there. Why'd she say that? Who knows! Perhaps it was a burst of insanity. Perhaps it was the dying gasp of a mad fever dream, and she would awake back in the Metro. Perhaps she was getting old, and this was a desperate cry for help before she was too far gone to understand such primitive things like Freshness and Style and Fashion.  
  
Three looked up from her phone and raised a single eyebrow. "Are you... Sure? I saw you almost fucking melt down having to make a choice earlier." That was unfortunately true. And Eight was going to ignore that unfortunately true statement to push past it. "Don't push yourself." ... If she didn't push herself, Eight was going to go insane. She had to push through the haze of fabrics and colours and just. Just do it!  
  
"I'm going to do it," she said firmly. She couldn't back down from a challenge like this. Doing that would be like giving up. And she couldn't give up. "I've got to do it."  
  
Three was quiet as Eight rushed towards a rack of clothes. It was quiet, but she barely heard the Agent laugh to herself. "You do, huh? Never stop moving... Maybe I should stand in your shadow, then."  
  
After trying out a bunch of clothes, she had a better idea of what she liked and didn't like. She wasn't a big fan of black clothes, wasn't a fan of clothes that were fairly tight... Actually, you know what? Any clothing that reminded her of either her old Sector 2 uniform or the... Now that she'd seen actual clothes, calling the black leather she'd worn in the Metro 'Clothing' was very generous. But anything that reminded her of that was off limits!  
  
And after a few minutes, she thought she had a fairly good outfit put together! It only took her eleven minutes to do it, too! Trying it on was a bit frustrating, though. The weird patterned glasses - Full Moon Glasses apparently - and big comfortable Zombie Hi-Horses were nice, and they did fit. But she was having a problem with the Pink Easy-Stripe Shirt. It didn't _fit_ right, the shoulder kept slipping down. "Bluh. Grrgh! Gha!" What was wrong with this thing?  
  
"Are you alright in there?" Pearl asked.  
  
"This stupid shirt keeps slipping!" It wouldn't stay centered either! If she tried, it just slid back to one side or the other! Rrr! Unless... No. That couldn't be it. That would be really, really dumb. It'd be so _stupid_ as to defy all logic. Eight fiddled with the collar of the shirt a few more times. "... If I'm right about what this is, I'm going to be very mad about everything," she warned everyone. She walked out of the dressing room and gave a forced smile.  
  
"Oh, that's a nice look." Marina said nicely. And. It was. She just. Eight could not _ignore_ the fact that her collar was crooked. She could feel it on one side of her neck. It was. The _most_ irritating thing. She had ever experienced. She wasn't asking for much in life. But she really wanted this shirt to be not a gosh darn _disgrace_ to the concept of shirts. "You look cute!" Eight looked like she didn't know how to dress herself but you're welcome to your opinion, Marina.  
  
"Hey, not bad for a second try!" Pearl cheered. And that just went to show that Pearl was blind because how was this not the most upsetting and infuriating thing she'd ever seen? It was madness. It was so dumb! It was a shirt and it kept slipping off her shoulder! How did anybody actually wear this if it kept moving all the darn time! "Got this whole pirate vibe to it!" Eight didn't know what a pirate was but it sounded really dumb and lame and boring and stupid.  
  
Three coughed and visibly kept her eyes away from Eight for some reason. "That. You. Yeah. Glasses. Good choice for you. Awesome. Cool. You should keep them. I mean. Buy them. Because. Looks. Style. Yeah." Why was Three stuttering so much? She'd seemed fairly lucid just a few minutes ago... "Because. It. The. Mm. It's. Yeah. You go. Fight the power. Yeah."  
  
"... Are you okay?" She was rambling really hard.  
  
" _I'm fine_ ," Three replied shortly after a brief pause. "You have other clothes to try, right?"  
  
Oh, yeah... Eight gave Three a concerned look before heading back into the changing room. Still a weird thing to think about. Okay... Let's see. Pearl had given her this stack to try on. Ooh. She liked some of this stuff. A big brimmed cap called a Woolly Urchins Classic... Didn't they have spines on their heads? How would they wear this? A pair of Truffle Canvas Hi-Tops which were kind of comfortable. And an... An... Forge Octarian Jacket? Whuh? They knew about Octarians the whole _entire time_? How did they... "Aren't Octarians meant to be a mystery? What's with this jacket?!"  
  
"Modern reinterpretation of clothing that Octarians might have worn had they won the Great Turf War," Pearl explained as if she had made any freaking sense at all.  
  
"Or, as other people might say, a headcanon." Three's sarcasm was a soothing balm on the maddening blister of the Surface's general lack of intelligence.  
  
Eight walked out and spun in a circle. "Ta-da!"  
  
Pearl stood and gave wild applause. "Yeah! Check that out! I am good with this, ain't I? You've got that real low-down hacker vibe about you right now!"  
  
Marina nodded appreciatively. "Yeah... I think I might buy one of those jackets myself. How comfortable is that thing, Eight?" Eight wasn't really sure, so she just gave a thumbs up. "Oh, cool. You look like a private eye."  
  
"Detective Eight and the Inkopolis Caper," Three said in a monotone. "Tomorrow night at nine. Starring Stephanie Sandbar, directed by Seaven Spillberg."  
  
"I would totally watch that," Marina noted.  
  
Eight hummed. "I definitely like the jacket, but I'm not a fan of all the patches on it."  
  
Three piped up. "You can rip those off, but it'll make it illegal for Splat Battling." She paused. "Fuck. I shouldn't have made that joke. Now I'm just thinking of more movie titles. The Crystal Brush. Mystery Beneath The Blue Seas. _Fuck_. Goddamn it."  
  
"Detective Eight and the Melodious Musicians, guest-starring Off The Hook." Marina sighed. "You're right. That is fun."  
  
Eight decided to change into the outfit that Marina made while everybody was workshopping titles for something called a movie. Pearl and Marina had promised that she'd see one before the day was through, so that was neato. Now, this outfit was amazing! She was already in love with this one, she really was. It had a long dark blue pleated skirt, a bright red Zapfish Satin Jacket, some fancy Suede Nation Lace-Ups and a black and white Skull Bandana! It was so neato, she wanted every single bit of it!  
  
"Detective Eight and the Outstanding Outfit!" Marina laughed. "I wasn't sure about that bandana, but I'm definitely glad I chose it now."  
  
"Woah! Eight, you look totally badass!" Pearl had actual stars in her eyes. "Man, I don't believe it!"  
  
Three didn't say anything, but she looked fairly interested. "That is fucking solid. God. Fucking excellence right there."  
  
"You think so?" It was pretty neat.  
  
Three nodded firmly. "Yeah, totally!"  
  
"Oh, cool!"  
  
The sixth store they got to was... Well. It was... Definitely a place. Yup. That was a descriptor. The entire store seemed to be covered in black paint with loads of thorns, wires and skulls painted all over it in bright white. On the left side of the entrance was a massive red logo dripping with blood and covered in what could only be described as religious iconography gone utterly and completely mad. The logo said, in letters almost as tall as Eight's torso, _HELLSHAKER._  
  
"YOOOOOOOOOOO!"  
  
"Good grief," Marina sighed.  
  
"YOOO LOOK AT THIS! YOOOOO!"  
  
"Why is Pearl shouting?" Eight whimpered. It was really loud!  
  
"She has decent taste is why," Three explained.  
  
Pearl wiped away a tear. "I got my first leather jacket here."  
  
At least there was decent music playing in there. It was all drums and guitar. "Hell yeah," Three said more to herself. "Decent fucking music."  
  
Marina scoffed. "Only decent if you like your ears bleeding."  
  
"Excuse me? Are you _blaspheming_ against CA/DA? The only decent rock band in the world? Wow, Marina." The amount of offense in Three's voice could probably kill a person. "Wow. I thought you had _some_ kind of standards, but I suppose I was wrong."  
  
Pearl intervened. "CA/DA is mediocre, and we can agree that Metalliconch is _way_ cooler."  
  
"METALLICONCH CAN GO _FUCK ITSELF._ "  
  
"CA/DA IS MEDIOCRE!"  
  
Eight chose to tune the two of them out as she tried choosing another outfit. Bits and pieces. Hm... Let's see here... Lots of skulls, lots of crosses, lots of vines wrapped around crosses, vines wrapped around skulls, vines wrapped around crosses _made_ of skulls, this was a very unoriginal place wasn't it? It was almost like it was totally boring and generic. "... I don't know if I like anything here." There were weird bracelets and necklaces that were covered in spikes, and jeans that were pre-tattered.  
  
The boots were all really good though. There were very few things that Eight was truly sure of in this new life, but the one thing that she was still one hundred percent certain of was that every girl needed a pair of sturdy leather boots to kick things with. Especially after having to wear the Neo Octoling uniform before she managed to escape... The higher-ups had said that the design was '18% tougher and allowed for more mobility in battle', but _come on!_ High-heeled boots? So stupid! Every girl deserved to kick things in both style and comfort.  
  
Most of the boots here were good, but too many had bits of silver on them. Too glittery for her liking, if she was honest. Was it too much to ask for a pair of boots with no buckles or shiny bits? Apparently so. Who the heck knew. But maybe... Oh. These ones were nice. The tag said they were steel-toed, to protect your toes if you dropped something. The unspoken truth was that they were to help kicking people. That was what... what... Who was it? It was right there, she knew it. Who was it? Her... Captain? No. Squadmate. Her friend. Her friend! She was! It was! Stop it stop it, it hurts it hurts stop it, just stop it! It was!  
  
 ~~ _kibpmzqvm iuxpqw_~~. YES! MEMORY! WOO! TAKE _THAT_ CRIPPLING AMNESIA! Wait. No. Remembering stuff hurt. Can she backstep this real fast? No? Darn it!  
  
 ~~ _kibpmzqvm iuxpqw, pmz aqabmz qv izua. eqmtlqvo i jzcap, apm eia i nwzkm bw jm zmkswvml eqbp. wdmz bpm gmiza apm pil ozwev nzwu i umms gwcvo oqzt qvbw i xwemzpwcam bpib kwctl kzcap ivgbpqvo qv pmz eig. epqtm apm pil uiabmzml bpm zwttmz, bpm apwwbmz ivl bpm kpizomz, apm xzmnmzzml bpm zcapqvo axmml wn bpm jzcap. vwjwlg kwctl lmnmib pmz qv i niqz jibbtm, pwemdmz uckp bpm kixbiqv ibbmuxbml bw kzcap bpm vwbqwv bpib i jibbtm kwctl mdmz jm bzctg niqz._~~  
  
 ~~ _mqopb twdml ewzsqvo eqbp kibpmzqvm. apm eia xzwnmaaqwvit, pizl-ewzsqvo ivl mnnqkqmvb. jcb bpmv bpm xzwxioivli jmoiv ombbqvo bw pmz. epmv aycil 25 eia amvb bw zmbzqmdm i hixnqap nzwu iv izmi caml bw ozwe nwwl, kibpmzqvm jmoiv bw ozwe uwzm ivl uwzm ioqbibml, nczqwca ib pwe bpm acznikm-lemttmza tqdml qv cbbmz tcfczg epqtm wkbizqiva emzm nwzkml bw tqdm cvlmzozwcvl. nczg ozme. pmz ziom jmoiv bw axzmil, bwckpqvo ivomz bpib bwckpml pmz nmttwe awtlqmza, pmz acxmzqwza, pmz nzqmvla, pmz niuqtg, xmwxtm epw apm bpwcopb emzm bzgqvo bw smmx pmz nzwu bisqvo dmvomivkm wv bpm acznikm._~~  
  
 ~~ _qb'l nittmv bw aycil 25 bw izzmab ivl quxzqawv pmz epmv apm ibbmuxbml bw jzmikp bpm acznikm._~~  
  
 ~~ _"q pibm itt wn gwc. ivl q eqtt vmdmz nwzoqdm ivg wn gwc."_~~  
  
 ~~ _bpm lig mqopb tmnb, apm'l dqaqbml kibpmzqvm. bew gmiza pil ewzv ieig ucaktm ivl abzmvobp, tmidqvo wvtg i jqbbmz ivl bzmujtqvo pcas._~~  
  
 ~~ _"q twdm gwc, aqabmz. ivl q'u aczm owqvo bw uqaa gwc."_~~  
  
Wow! Her brain was melting like a pile of scrapmetal! It hurt to actually breath right now! So recovering from amnesia sucked super hard and everything _sucked_. "Hey, Eight? Are you okay?" Marina asked as she brought Eight back into the present. Her head still felt woozy, like... A fancy metaphor involving feeling really woozy. It didn't help that remembering whatever the hell that was made her gut feel awful. "You just started crying."  
  
Huh? Eight lifted a hand to her eyes, and yeah... Tears. Weird. "I don't... I... How... I'm fine, but... I tried to remember something." She almost didn't want to remember that - just thinking about it made her hearts feel gross and awful. It was the same feeling as when she realised that Operation Blackout had been an awful idea... Guilt. Sure, she was guilty about that. But what was in this memory that made her feel so horribly guilty? "Just thinking about it was..."  
  
Marina nodded understandingly and rested her arm around Eight's shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
She... She kind of didn't. She just wanted to live her life. Maybe remembering was a bad idea. "...No. I want to go outside." Marina nodded again and led her out of the store for some air. "Um. Please don't tell Three or Pearl. I... I don't want anybody to freak out." Lying! It solved everything as long as nobody ever found out.  
  
Mercifully, Marina nodded and chose to change the topic. "Was there anything you liked in there?"  
  
"Boots. They're the only decent pair I've seen today."  
  
"Ah, I see." An annoyed grumble escaped Marina's throat. "I keep buying myself some good boots, but Pearl keeps stealing all of them."  
  
Pearl shrugged as she walked out. "Can't help it if your boots look good on me."  
  
"Aw, it's cute that you _think_ that, Pearlie."  
  
Three groaned. "Spare us from your sappy bullshit, please."  
  
Pearl and Marina took a look at each other. In that solitary _moment_ , they came to a conclusion. Eight thought it was pretty neat that when people did that sort of look, it was possible to gleam a glimpse into the near future with almost perfect accuracy. Within a second, Pearl sprinted forwards and jumped. Marina caught Pearl in her arms seamlessly and gave a dazzling smile. "Hey there, Pearlie."  
  
"Sup, Reena." Pearl wrapped her arms around Marina's neck and leaned in as close as was physically possible to Marina's body. There was a moment where their eyes met, and the atmosphere shifted, and Eight could almost hear the saxophone playing in the air.  
  
"WHY DOES EVERYONE ACT TO SPITE ME."  
  
"Because it's hilarious," Marina said simply. "You little fool."  
  
"You little fool!" Pearl cackled.  
  
" _FUCK ALL OF YOU._ "  
  
Eight patted Three on the head. Which may have made the situation worse, because Three blushed again and started sulking.  
  
The seventh store they came to was clean to the point of eliminating anything that would make her actually want to go in there. It was completely white, save for a plain line of text in golden letters that said Monochrome Rainbow. Because naming conventions were a _farce_ on the Surface. It also had what was possibly the most boring music Eight had ever heard playing over the speakers. Walking in just creeped her out right to heck, since most of the clothing in there was either black, white, or a paleish colour. All of it looked pretty awful, too.  
  
They left without buying anything. "I don't blame you for being creeped out," Pearl said. "Most of that was designer clothing. Rockenberg and Toni Kensa. Don't get me wrong, some of it's nice, but it's totally not worth anything."  
  
Marina nodded. "Yeah, you just wait a week until somebody buys an entire store and then donates it to a thrift store or something. It's _way_ cheaper." Oh. That was much better than spending money at a weird store that made her want to shoot something!  
  
And then, after almost an hour and a half, they were at the last store in Arowana Mall. It was much nicer than anywhere else so far. The walls were painted a dark red, it was clearly lit, the walls had fancy murals painted on them, and there was a nice guitar beat playing through the store. The sign was shaped like a nine-sided gemstone, labeled The Dazzling Ruby. Eight really liked it! Not to mention everything was organized correctly and neatly.  
  
She tried on a few things, but nothing seemed to click... Until she found the perfect outfit. She dashed into the changing room and tried it on. The tags said it was a House-Tag Denim Cap, Annaki Red Cuff sweater, a pair of long pants, and a pair of Navy Enperrial shoes. They had belt straps attached to them rather than the laces she preferred on boots, but it was... Fine. The sweater was incredibly comfortable! And it was threaded in a way that it was actually really airy and breezy despite looking incredibly warm, so she could even wear it in hot weather! Yeah!  
  
"Yo, I think you've got a winner there, Eight." Pearl gave a thumbs up.  
  
"... Oh, yes. That looks outstanding." Marina held up a notepad with a 10 written on it.  
  
Three nodded slowly. "Hey, not bad! That's a sweet outfit you've got there."  
  
Yes! She was totally going to wear this all the time! She paused and looked at Three. "Hey, have you bought anything, Three?"  
  
"Couple of shirts, couple of pants, good pair of shoes... Don't need much else." Three shrugged. Eight glared dangerously and leaned in. Three sighed. "Fine. I'll buy something right here." Three spent exactly two minutes picking out clothes, and did not look at all interested in the clothes. Sixty seconds later, she emerged from the changing room in the clothes. "Tada."  
  
... It was nice. And Eight was not at all jealous that Three only took... _Wait_. "Did you specifically spend _exactly three minutes_ doing that because you're Three?" The grin on Three's face confirmed _everything_ , and it also confirmed that she apparently did this _regularly_. "Oh, I hate you _so very much._ "  
  
"It is kind of my trademark."   
  
Eight was very glad that Marina grabbed her wrist to prevent her from attacking Three. Breath in. Breath out. Focus. "What," she said slowly, so she wasn't tempted to punch Three in the face. "Types of clothing are you wearing?"  
  
"Part-Time Pirate, Classic Straw Boater and a pair of Moto Boots." Three said smugly. "Man, I'm having loads of fun. Are you guys having fun?"  
  
Eight dearly wanted to punch Three in the face right now.  
  
They ended up wearing their new outfits from The Dazzling Ruby out of the store, Eight in her cool hat and neato sweater and cool boots and Three in her _dumb_ hat and _boring_ _stupid_ stripy shirt and admittedly _nice_ boots. "So, you happy with everything you picked out?" Marina asked.  
  
"Yup! It's all super cool!" Before today, she hadn't ever owned any piece of clothing besides her uniform. And now, she had loads of jackets and shoes and hats and everything! Today could end right now, and it'd still be the best day ever! Though... "Hey, where are we headed now that we're done with shopping?"  
  
"First off, we're heading to our car," Marina said. And oooh, she'd get to see one of the death traps that Marina had told her about yesterday! How did people even deal with being in any vehicle without a single Grav-Ion Disc, or G-Diffusers! That was like a disaster waiting to happen, and Eight was so utterly and totally down to try it. "But if you mean our next destination, we're headed to Inkopolis Square. You wanted to try Splat Battles, right?"  
  
STRESS RELIEF. HECK YEAH.  
  
Eight was so freaking down for all of that! "Yay! I can't wait!"  
  
"Gonna have to start at the bottom," Three warned.  
  
"I'm fine with that!" Eight replied chirpily. She'd quickly realized that the best way to get back at Three for messing with her was to just not play any of her games. And Three knew that. And Eight _knew_ that Three knew! And Three _knew_ that Eight _knew_ that Three _knew_! Hah! She'd fallen prey to one of the classic blunders - the most famous of which is 'never challenge DJ Octavio to a turntable duel' - but only slightly _less_ known is this: NEVER GO IN AGAINST AN OCTOLING IN A BATTLE OF WITS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! "I can't wait."  
  
Three sighed. "Remind me why I'm carrying the bags?"  
  
Marina began to speak in a tone so sweet that Eight actually started to feel a little sick. "Well, Eight can't possibly carry the bags! It's her first day on the surface! I'm busy helping Eight, you couldn't possibly want me to stop that, _could you?_ " Eight imagined that if Marina spoke for much longer, her teeth would begin to rot away. "And Pearlie is just so sweet and wonderful that I couldn't possibly impose anything upon her! You're just the only one who can do it. So sad!"  
  
There was a moment of silence. "You hate me, don't you?"  
  
"Considering your actions two years ago, yes, I do." Oh. _Oh_. This was either going to be a conversation that stopped, or a conversation that got _really_ nasty, and it was going to happen right now. "People I cared about got hurt because of _you_. My friends, people I considered close enough to be family... You got involved, and they got hurt."  
  
Three nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, they did."  
  
"Don't you have _anything_ to say?" Marina asked in a tone that Eight would never unhear. It was so quiet and furious that Eight wanted to leave _right now._  
  
There was a long moment of silence as they walked along the sidewalk. Three looked away from Marina. "No. I don't have any excuses for what I did."  
  
That did not seem to be the answer Marina had been looking for. "... You're right. You don't."  
  
Pearl and Eight gave each other an uneasy look. "S-So! Eight! You ready to see something way cool?!"  
  
" _Yeah! Yeah, I am_!" Distractions! Distractions everywhere! Make the fight stop!  
  
"You might actually be familiar with it, Marina called it a Kettle?" _What_.  
  
Three's gaze snapped to Pearl. "Excuse me?" Yeah, what she said. Kettles were super restricted! Only people from Central were allowed to even touch one outside of emergencies, and even then it took five voice-locked passwords from Octarian higher-ups to unbolt it from the ground!  
  
"It's not an actual Kettle!" Marina replied quickly. "I just... Replicated the _utility_ of one."  
  
The four of them walked out into a large concrete area, with lots of weird colourful boxes on wheels. Were these cars? They all looked really ugly and bad. Like, some of them were just covered in dents! How were they supposed to stand up to any form of attack if their base metals were so _weak_? Pearl led them to a vehicle that was dark green with two silvery white lines leading from front to back. The wheels had a fancy icon on them, what looked like a Seafolk with lots of teeth. "Woooahh..." It looked. So. Freaking. Cool.  
  
Pearl nodded excitedly. "Yeah, isn't it awesome? It's a 1973 Holdem Monarch HQ GTS. My dad had it in the garage and wanted me to have a car, so he gave it to me. Then after Marina moved in with me, she made it way better!"  
  
Three whistled. "Shit. Holdem Monarch?"  
  
"That's right, good work, Three!" Marina said condescendingly. "I even improved it."  
  
Eight had to hear how this thing had been improved. "Talk to me, Marina. What did you do to this beautiful piece of art?"  
  
"Not much, really... I just... Um..." Marina let out a nervous laugh. "Y'know, now that I'm saying it out loud to somebody who might understand it, I'm kind of nervous."  
  
Eight threw herself into Marina's face and widened her eyes. "Pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaaase?"  
  
"Oh, alright... Well, this car was really old? So I basically, uh, took it apart and rebuilt it from the ground up. Reinforced the general chassis with some Synthplastic plating, rebuilt the engine - they do some interesting things, up here, it's all very interesting - and I changed it over from being a combustion engine to an electric-revolver one, so it only requires like 20 watts to drive at top speed. Redid the steering systems, I just kind of... Overhauled everything?"  
  
Revolver, huh? "That's interesting. I didn't think you could utilize a revolver engine on a small enough scale to do that sort of thing." Most revolver engines were used to power Octoseekers, and they occupied almost eighty-percent of the mass of the things. It was almost _impossible_ to shrink it down at all, so being able to do that was... Honestly, a work of genius on the part of Marina.  
  
"After that, I made a new version of a Kettle and, um... Used it to enhance the storage space of the car." That sounded mundane and boring as heck, Eight loved it. "Pearl, open the trunk, please." Pearl did so, and revealed that the back of the vehicle was almost entirely a polished chrome, save for the bottom, which was covered in a large metal grate that seemed to have no bottom, and two tubes that led up to the back of the vehicle's rear light thingamabobs.  
  
So... She made a Kettle. Okay, so the grating was clearly the entrance to the TEA phenomenon, and given how it lined the entire bottom of the... Trunk thingy, it clearly transported anything that sat on it inside of the Kettle. "This is awesome... Is this one-to-one with a normal Kettle?"  
  
Marina nodded. "Yeah. Those white stripes act as energy-converters. Solar energy and heat are gathered whenever the sun is shining, so there's almost always enough energy to maintain the Kettle."  
  
"Nice!"  
  
Marina looked at Three. "Try it. Put the bags in the trunk." Three glanced at Marina for a moment before placing all the bags in carefully. She also arranged them to be as efficiently stored as possible, which was so very nice! Eight liked it when people were helpful like that. "Now just close the trunk." Three slammed it down, and two smaller nozzles that Eight hadn't noticed emitted a high-pitched whistle and a burst of steam. When Marina opened the trunk again, everything was gone!  
  
"Woah! Is everything still there?"  
  
"Should be." Eight totally had to try it! She hopped into the trunk and shifted into an Octopus, sliding down into the Kettle entirely. It was much smaller in here than in a normal Dome, just smaller than where Three lived, but all the bags were definitely still there! She hopped back out and shifted back to Octoling form to grin at Marina. "Cool, right?"  
  
"Cooler than cool!" Though the thought occurred. If this sort of thing was possible, then why hadn't they used it as a way to avert the energy crisis?  
  
As if reading her thoughts, Marina replied instantly. "Before you ask, I _tried_ asking about this avenue of energy preservation. An array of solar panels around Mount Nantai would've solved the energy crisis entirely!" Yeah, it would've! "But any time I tried to bring up the idea, my superior officers just got mad and told me to drop the issue. Honestly, it's a _good_ thing I tried to defect. I was almost at the point of installing the panels personally and risking getting in trouble."  
  
"Sounds like you have an issue for your conspiracy board," Three replied.  
  
"I don't _have_ a conspiracy board."  
  
"That is incredibly stupid of you for a supposed _genius_."  
  
Eight hopped out of the trunk and let Pearl slam it shut. Marina rolled her eyes. "Anyways. Are you ready to see the COOLEST THING OF ALL?!"  
  
"I don't know," Eight answered honestly. Pearl pulled open the door of the car, and Marina threw out her hands to frame the thing in question. "What are those?!"  
  
"Cup holders!"  
  
"WHAT NO WAY!!"  
  
"YES WAY!"  
  
Three sighed. "Cup holders have been standard for twenty years."  
  
"Don't bother arguing," Pearl sighed tiredly. "I tried telling Marina that two years ago, she thinks that it's awesome. Are you two going to get in the car, or are Three and I gonna have to leave without you?"  
  
"No, we'll be good!" Eight promised. They were about to get into the car when an unbelievably loud sound echoed across the city. And wow, Eight did not want to hear that! It brought all kinds of bad memories about the awful things she did back to the forefront. Across the city, she could see the Great Zapfish curling up around the bright green center tower of Inkopolis. And then, with a single massive roaring wail, it pushed off of the tower and flew into the air.  
  
It spun through the air like a missile, corkscrewed, and then slammed down into the ocean right next to Arowana Mall. If it had been off by even a single inch during its jump, there was a chance it could've landed on them. That had been absolutely terrifying. Pearl and Three, however, thought it was absolutely amazing. "WOOOOO!" Pearl shouted, setting off several car alarms. "GO BIG RAY!"  
  
"I LOVE YOU BIG RAY!" Three shouted. After a moment, the Great Zapfish rose and let out another loud wail, sounding a lot like an Octotrooper stuck in a vent rather than a terrible beast capable of fuelling the power of an entire nation, before sinking down into the sea with its terribly awfully maddeningly blank and empty eyes that accused you of every crime known to civilization. "Man, talk about fucking luck! Getting to see Big Ray in flight on your first day on the surface is fucking lucky as hell!"  
  
Marina sighed. "People who live here are _weird_ , Eight. Big Ray is terrifying, and could kill us all."  
  
"I thought it was the Great Zapfish," Eight said, sounding as confused as she felt.  
  
"Nah, dude! The Great Zapfish is named Big Ray!" Pearl explained in a way that explained absolutely nothing and in a tone that implied it should explain everything. "Seeing them do the jump means that your day is guaranteed to be super lucky!"  
  
"Big Ray is hella cool, and their whiskers are the best, and they are cuddly and I love them," Three said simply. "If anything happened to Big Ray, I would kill everybody in this city and then myself."  
  
Marina leaned down to whisper in Eight's ear. "I know that the propaganda about them all being violent warmongers was wrong, but it was completely right about Inklings being _completely insane_."  
  
Eight very reluctantly agreed, and everybody clambered into the car. Pearl sat behind the wheel and grinned as Marina moved to sit in the seat next to her. Eight decided to sit behind Pearl, which left Three just behind Marina. The seats were all plushy and soft, and it was coloured a light blue. "Oh yeah, before we set off. Eight! Belt buckle!" Oh, was that a thing? Inklings didn't just have handles to hold onto midtransport or something? How weird.  
  
After a moment or two, Eight reached up and saw the belt thingamajigger. After another moment, she figured out how to work it, and pulled it down until it clicked into the little gizmo that ate the silver bit. Why it was _important_ , she had no idea. But Pearl wasn't going to start the car until it was on, so... Cool beans, she guessed. "Oh, that's right!" Marina realised. "Yesterday, I made you a promise, Eight."  
  
"No," Three said as she suddenly remembered something.  
  
"I told you that the Squid Sisters had six albums." Yes.  
  
" _No_ ," Three said louder. She was ignored!  
  
"And that I would bring my Octopod so we could listen to them!" _Yes!_  
  
"No!" Three yelled. Silence, nonbeliever!  
  
"So I am glad to tell you!" YES.  
  
"NO!" Three screamed.  
  
"THAT I HAVE THEIR ENTIRE HISTORY RIGHT HERE!"  
  
"YES!" Eight screamed loudly. Yes yes yes! Holy gosh this would be so cool and she'd listen to the Squid Sisters and hear even more of their outstandingly amazing jams!  
  
Marina pressed a button on the front of the dashboard thing and music started playing. She handed Eight her phone and grinned. "I have all the lyrics memorized, but here's a list of all the lyrics for all of their music!"  
  
"Marina, you're an _amazing_ friend!" Eight yelled. Meanwhile, Three made a sound of ultimate anguish and despair unrivalled by anything, man or beast. Everyone chose to ignore her.  
  
That song started. _Yes_.  
  
That beautiful song. _Heck yes._  
  
That heavenly melody. _HECK. FREAKING. YES._  
  
 _"You! And me! Arise! From below the sea! Shifting! Eternally you see! Soon! We'll be! A family that sings and dances oh so joyful, oh won't you please join our merry festivity!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fucking fuck this was hard to write
> 
> btw the car that's mentioned near the end of the chapter is a holden monaro gts because i like old cool cars and thus so do my characters shut up i make good choices  
> also would anybody want to ask me questions on my tumblr because i have loads of bits of trivia that probably wont make it into the story


	3. Tearing Up Some Turf - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come ask me some questions at my tumblr, sunsetconcert.tumblr.com! I don't know how to do html shit. Also! Fight Scenes can go fuck themselves! ... Even though I still have two more to go, UGH.
> 
> Eight: i think im not a fan of violence  
> Eight: is handed a weapon  
> Eight:  
> Eight: alright this may as well happen

_Big sister had lots of ideas_  
_So very smart, almost an art_  
_All that held her back was her fears_  
  
_Her Roller sang of hope and love_  
_Of cheer and joy, it was no toy_  
_She wanted to see skies above_  
  
_But orders are orders, they said_  
_Kill traitors now, we don't care how_  
_The Captain looked so cold when dead_  
  
_So principled we might explode,_  
_But when she burst, who's really cursed?_  
_Her loved ones had to bear that load._  
  
_Her friendly face, her easy stride -_  
_That's all a front. Let me be blunt;_  
_It leaves you with nowhere to hide._  
  
_It was too much for her to take_  
_Hearts broke too fast, alone at last_  
_She cried no more for our cruel fates._  
  
_\---_

  
  
Eight was having the time of her life!  
  
_"WITH A TASTE OF YOUR LIPS, I'M ON A RIIIIDE! YOU'RE TOXIC I'M SLIPPIN' UNDER! WITH A TASTE OF POISON PARADIIISE! I'M ADDICTED TO YOU, DON'T YOU KNOW THAT YOU'RE TOXIC!"_  
  
So as it turned out, cars were way more preferable to sit in than trains. They were nicer to sit in, you could talk to your friends, the seats weren't horrifying lumps of plastic, and you could sing at the top of your lungs and nobody would get mad at you! Well, other than Three, but she's not relevant to this conversation. Honestly, Eight had a hard time understanding why anybody would ever have a problem with singing Squid Sisters music, but then she guessed it was just another reason why the Surface made little to no sense.  
  
Sadly, their arrival at Inkopolis Square meant that the music had to stop. Truly, it was a problem that not even a god could solve. Go and shoot things, or listen to more Squid Sisters. If Pearl hadn't made the decision for her by turning the music player off, Eight would never have been able to decide. As they climbed out of the car, Eight realized that they'd parked right outside the short street that led directly to the Square's gate. "We're this close?"  
  
"Yup!" Pearl replied. "People who work at the Square get designated parking spaces. We're the unofficial hosts of the whole thing, so we get the closest space there is!"  
  
Marina nodded. "Yeah, it's super useful. It also means that we don't have to run too far if we forget something in the car."  
  
"Wait," Three interrupted. "You two work for the Square?"  
  
"... Yes," Marina said slowly. "We replaced the Squid Sisters?"  
  
Three shrugged. "I thought they got in other dull pop duo to replace them." She grinned evilly. "And hey, what do you know? I was _right_." Ooooh!  
  
"First time for everything," Marina shot back innocently, and WOW was that an insult! "I know it's a new experience, so try to savour it."  
  
Pearl let out a loud sigh. "Y'know, if you two keep this up, you're gonna make _me_ be the voice of reason around here!" There was a long moment where Marina and Three silently and visibly thought about this possibility. Their eyes filled with horror, dread, varying amounts of respect and laughter, and then complete resignation. "Thought so. You guys wanna be the adults here, or do I have to start knocking your heads together?" Three and Marina mumbled for a bit, but ultimately agreed.  
  
The same as yesterday, Inkopolis Square was filled with people. It was unlike anything that Eight remembered from the Domes. Maybe the closest was Sector 5's trade hub, but even then, it hadn't been anything like the wild chaos here. Groups of Inklings were scattered about, some dancing and some having lunch and some just chatting each other up. But the most interesting thing she noticed were the Inklings holding up signs near the entrance to the... Big. Tower. Thing. It had lots of screens on it. That thing.  
  
Eight knew words, shut up.  
  
Some of their signs were weird. Stuff like _'3RoRain'_ or _'1Ch1Spl1IS-TW'_ or _'2Sh1Bre-LClam'_ and others along those lines. It was all incredibly confusing. She guessed that here on the Surface, in a land where anything was possible, some people were just overwhelmed by their desire to scribble random nonsense onto signs for no discernible reason. Either that, or Eight was just stupid. "Um, Marina? What those people waving those signs around for? Are they all going crazy?"  
  
Marina shook her head. "No, they're just asking for help. I guess you could sort of refer to those signs as... Codewords, kind of."  
  
"Codewords?" Didn't look like anything to her.  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yeah! They're just asking for help from other Splatters!" She pointed at a nearby sign that read _'2D-TW'_. "It's a bunch of shortened phrases, so that everybody knows what they're asking for. That guy is asking for two people, both with Dualies, for some Turf War." Right. That made some semblance of sense. Now if only she had any clue as to what Pearl had just explained to her. Should she... Should she like. Make some kind of gesture to indicate that? Should she... Should she lie? Yeah, she totally knew all that?  
  
Marina sighed. "Pearl, she doesn't know what _any_ of that meant."  
  
"OH! Right! Sorry."  
  
Three rolled her eyes, an expression that Eight never really got as you weren't actually rolling them, just moving them in an arc. "If you could explain Splat Battles and get her registered, that'd be great. I need to do some... Semi-legal trickery so that Eight doesn't get arrested." Oooh! Splat Battles! Yes!  
  
Marina's tone went quiet and furious. "And _why_ would she get arrested?"  
  
"Chunks she salvaged from some vending machine are illegal," Three replied carelessly. "I'm going to hand them all off to a... Semi-legal trader. Ask Eight for more details."  
  
Eight shrugged. "That vending machine, where I got the tickets and stuff from? It gave me some of those chunk thingies. Some of them are illegal, apparently." It sounded like all the _useful_ ones. Why would you ban any of those! Not only were they super useful, they were easy to obtain! It made no sense! Inklings, once again, showed no form of cognitive reasoning.  
  
Pearl groaned loudly. "So more crazy shit we need to worry about. Great."  
  
"Not for a while, the Captain is still sorting shit out. I got an update from him earlier, that giant statue you guys tore down is turning into a clusterfuck. UO wants to deal with it quietly, the press is making it a huge issue, the navy wants to get rid of it, all the Humanologists are claiming it's a vital piece of evidence for some crackpot theories, and the local police are in everybody's goddamn face trying to get some answers." Three made a face like she was personally offended by everyone she just mentioned. "Like I said, we're still trying to figure out the best way to approach the situation. Don't worry about it until we call you. Anyways. Have fun, be back in ten. Hopefully I won't look like shit when I come back."  
  
And then Three spun on her heel and jogged away. Man. So cool. Marina shook her head angrily. "Ugh. Let's ignore her for a while and get you registered for Splat Battles, okay?" YEEEESSSSS. The three of them began to walk towards the big tower surrounded by the crowds. "Okay... so... Did Three tell you anything about Splat Battles already?"  
  
Eight thought back to yesterday. Hmm... "She mentioned that it was a... Sport? It was a mutated tradition from just after the end of the Great Turf War... Uh, it's an industry? And that certain places pay the sponsor lots of cash, and that winning can be profitable." That was about it, though. She had little to no idea about anything else, other than that apparently Three wasn't a fan of whatever Ranked was, judging by how she was mad at Agent Four. "That's about it."  
  
Pearl laughed. "Geeze, seriously? Talk about dropping the ball! Splat Battles are super fun!" Eight was really sure they were, but that didn't mean she knew what they were. "Okay! There are three modes of Battle overall! Regular, Ranked, and League! Regular Battles are available to everyone all the time, but there are only two matchtypes in it - Turf War, and Clownfish Park! Both are what you might call the backbone of all Splat Battles. Without them, Ranked and League wouldn't really even exist at all!"  
  
Okay... So Turf War and Clownfish Park were the basics. So if she mastered those, she could do anything! That made more sense. At least something made a bit of sense on the Surface. Granted, it was the weirdest thing she'd seen yet, but she was rapidly giving up on expecting anything normal. "I see. Three mentioned Clownfish Park makes a lot of noise, though..."  
  
Marina gave a shrug that indicated she didn't really give a toss about what Three said. "Probably means she lives nearby. It's a regular complaint from people who live in that general area. Ignoring that, Turf War is the simplest mode there is. Simply ink as much ground as you can in three minutes, and whichever team has the most at the end? Wins." That sounded fairly easy. "It sounds easy, but lots of people take it incredibly seriously. Not to mention, there's an incredibly big rivalry between Regular Battlers and Ranked Battlers."  
  
"Ooh, yeah. It can get super nasty sometimes. Worse than Splatfest arguments, honestly." Wow. How bad could it possibly be? Pearl continued onwards. "Anyways, the other Regular Battle matchtype is Clownfish Park! It's got all these neat minigame type events all the time! Stuff like matches that go for ten minutes, or sometimes the floor falls out from under you, or maybe it's even a four team match!" Ooh. So... Stuff like a few of the tests in the Metro... But without your life being threatened at bomb point? Honestly, that sounded really weird!  
  
"Turf War goes for three minutes, while any Clownfish Park match can go for longer," Marina explained. "But it's usually the easiest matchtype. After that, there's Ranked Battles. Their max time limit is five minutes, but can end in less than one if everybody is on the ball." Oh! Something that rewarded efficiency and teamwork! Oh, Eight was all over that! Maybe Inklings _weren't_ weird and nonsensical after all! Teamwork was the foundation upon which power and skill was built, you know.  
  
"There are... Four matchtypes for Ranked, I think?" Pearl scratched her chin for a moment. "Yeah. There are. And they're just as simple as Turf War! Simpler, even! There's Splat Zones, which is a lot like Turf War, but on a much smaller level, so the action is focused on just one spot instead of being all over the stage!" Oooh, that sounded like fun! Having every enemy always within Shooter range? And running towards her to ink some turf? Oh, that sounded awesome! Yay!  
  
Marina nodded. "After that, there's Tower Control. You hop onto a large tower, and then protect it from enemies until it travels to the goal. However, you have to stay on it. If you leave, then it stops. Part of the challenge is that it moves towards the enemy Spawnpoint, so the closer you get, the harder it becomes." Ooh. So advancing the goal by sacrificing mobility... Interesting. "You're actually already familiar with it, just a little bit... From the Metro? Rad Ride Station?" Wait. What? That... No. No, now that she was up here, it made sense that the AI would have copied the Surface. Best way to mess with her.  
  
"I... Okay. Yeah, I think I know what you mean." Don't think about it, Eight. Just... Breath in. Breath out. Everything is fine. "What else is there?"  
  
"Rainmaker is awesome! It's my fave mode." Pearl exclaimed. She proceeded to pull a card from her pocket and showed it to Eight. It was a picture of Pearl laughing as she hauled a Rainmaker on one shoulder, while a rainbow web of ink exploded behind her. It was also signed by somebody called Rain Ocean. Eight had no idea who that was, but it was apparently impressive enough that Pearl felt confident showing off.  
  
Marina sighed. "Rainmaker is simple. Just carry the Rainmaker to the other side, and slam it down onto the goal podium." Rainmakers... Hm. Putting aside the times she'd used it in the Metro, she remembered the specialized training she'd had to undergo to use Rainmakers. The first time she'd ever fired one, the sheer force of a single shot had sent her body tumbling head over heels. "You remember if you've ever used one?" Yes. She didn't want to remember, but yes, she did. So she just kind of sighed, and then gave a nod. Marina put a hand on her shoulder in solidarity.  
  
Pearl gave them both a look. "Something tells me there's a story there."  
  
_"It's one you'll never hear,"_ Eight threatened darkly. She wanted to keep as many memories as she could, but that one would be drowned beneath the obsidian sea that hid within the deepest recesses of the glorious shining beacon that was her mind. "I will throw you into a pit before you hear of that."  
  
"... Anyways," Pearl continued. "The last one is Clam Blitz. It is... Kinda confusing? I dunno, I don't really play it too much. You collect clams around the stage, and then once you get ten, they become a massive Power Clam. Throw it at your opponent's goal to break the barrier, and then hurl as many clams in before it reseals! Either get one hundred clams in, or have the most clams when time is up." Eight was later told that her expression was one of complete and utter befuddlement.  
  
"Oh, and there's also League mode! It's this huge team battle thing, where everybody battles for a week to see who's the best!" Marina said excitedly. This sounded interesting. "It's a commitment, though. You have to do a lot of battles for a week solid, and if you don't show up even one day, it's pretty much guaranteed that you're going to lose." Hm. _Hmmmm_. On the one hand, repeated fighting sounded nice. On the other, it sounded about as exciting as patrol duty, and Eight never wanted to do that ever again.  
  
"Is that it?"  
  
"Pretty much, but it's super fun! Oh, and every two hours, the stages change!" Pearl exclaimed. What? Two hours wasn't enough time to get your bearings! If you fought in an area for long enough, you could perfectly memorize every inch of the place. But that took weeks! Two hours was not nearly enough time! "We call it a rotation, so there's always somewhere new to turf!" Aaaaargh! That made no sense! Why would Inklings do this?! This was really stupid!  
  
Eight gave Marina a look that expressed how much she already didn't like this system. How Inklings tolerated it was beyond comprehension. How Eight longed for the days when all she had to be confused about was figuring out the heck a Blaster worked. "This sounds incredibly impractical, and I hate every single thing about it."  
  
"Oh, it's stupidly impractical," Marina replied in a tone that felt chirpier and happier than it should have been. "But it is a lot of fun!"  
  
Eight sighed as they made their way into the tower. It was almost immediately like stepping back into the Domes - surrounded by flashing neon lights. There were holographic lightup displays of squids dancing around the walls, a desk near the back occupied by a bored looking Seafolk with black scales, a door leading into a backroom near said desk, and several large tubes marked with coloured ink splatters with large Spawnpoints inside them scattered around the room. "So... How do I get registered?"  
  
"Over here," the Seafolk said suddenly, with an odd accent similar to what Agent Four sounded like. "You're a newbie, huh?"  
  
Marina and Pearl nudged her forwards slightly. "Y-Yeah, I. I am."  
  
"... Hm. Well, come over here. I gotta give you a membership card." Eight nodded slowly and walked over to the desk. Now that she was closer, she could see a fine layer of shimmering black scales layered over one another like armour. It was actually really pretty... "I'm Tara. You never gone splatting before, kiddo?"  
  
Eight shook her head. "N-No. Um..." Words, Eight. Use them. You are not an idiot. "I-Is that a problem?"  
  
"Nah. Just odd, y'know? Most kids come in here the day they can shift. Could barely keep 'em out of here, that first day. Most newbies are a lot younger than you, if I'm honest." Oh. Okay. Um. Ignore that. Could you ignore that, miss? There's nothing... Nothing overly suspicious about that. At all. Perfectly normal. Nobody here is a traitorous amnesiac. What is an amnesiac? Certainly not Eight! She is a perfectly respectable young lady! "But hey, some kids just come in later. You new in town, huh?"  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  
Tara proceeded to place a small black square onto the desk. It suddenly turned on with a light electronic hum, showing a grey background. A long black bar sat near the top with words placed onto it. 'Splat Zones: C-'. 'Tower Control: C-'. 'Rainmaker: C-'. And 'Clam Blitz: C-'. Just above that was an empty black bar with the word 'Level' next to it. Below the Ranked bar sat three coloured boxes, with miniature pictures of the clothing she was wearing at that exact moment. And then, at the top above the Level thingy, was an empty box with a blinking cursor. "Do you want to enter your name, or do you have a preferred nickname?"  
  
"I... My name is Eight." Her amnesia felt more real after saying that. She didn't want a replacement name. She wanted her name. And if she could never remember it... Well... Eight would be fine as a placeholder. Gosh knows she didn't want to remember most of her old life. The person she used to be was awful. Eight never wanted to be her again. "... Do I need a last name or something?"  
  
"Nope. Eight, huh? Odd name. Not the weirdest, but hey, it's up there." Tara proceeded to type something onto a keyboard, and 'Eight' promptly replaced the blinking cursor. Good. Tara handed her the square, which was surprisingly light. "Here you go! Your Splat Battle license! See this door behind me? There's a Spawnpoint in there, take one Ink Tank and one Splattershot Jr. It'll take you to an alley we use to make sure newbies like you know how to use weapons and stuff. Just get to the launchpad, and you're good for Splat Battles!" Oh. Okay. So she had to get through this now so they had time for Splat Battling later... Hm. Eight gave a nervous wave to Marina and Pearl and headed through the door. Sure enough, there was a Spawnpoint there.  
  
There was also a row of Ink Tanks along the wall, and a dozen smaller weapons. Shooters, looked like. The thing was empty of ink. Eight picked up one of the Ink Tanks and looked it over. Huh. Same design as the Octoling variety, a harness attached to the main tank. She turned around, slipped a hand into each loop, and then raised her arms, letting the Ink Tank slide down onto her back. Hm. Bit too loose. It took her a moment, but she tightened the straps until they were tight enough to be secure, but not tight enough to restrain her movement.  
  
The Shooter looked weird. It looked like the entire thing was wound up into the body of the gun... No ink canister to speak of. Very weird. Trigger had no guard, so if she didn't want to shoot... This was pretty weird. Oh well. Time to sync these two. She searched around the small gun - a Splattershot Jr, she guessed from what Tara had said - until she found a small black panel under the handle of the weapon. She held it against the bottom of the Ink Tank until a satisfying BEEP rang out. Good. Now this weapon was hers and hers alone... Okay. Eight put the license thingy into her pocket and breathed. Breathe in. Breathe out.  
  
Through the Spawnpoint. Unlike Octarian Spawnpoints, this one just immediately took her to where she needed to be, rather than taking three full seconds. She arrived in a weird alleyway, it looked... Wait. This was... Oh, really? She shouldn't be surprised anymore that the AI thing had copied areas from the Surface, but this was _ridiculous_. Also, _terrifying!_ Breathe in, Eight. Breathe out. Ignore it.  
  
Focus on the present.  
  
A loud voice on an intercom blared behind her. "You ready to rock, kiddo?" Oh, was that Tara?  
  
"Uh, yes!" She wanted to get this done.  
  
"Okay! I'm gonna activate some balloons. Pop each and every one, got it?" Destroy the balloon menace! Got it! Eight nodded to indicate that she was ready. "If ya get stuck, just yell! Go for it, kid!" A trail of balloons appeared leading down the alley and around the corner. Eight immediately started popping balloons and charged down. So this was how Inklings began their training, hm? Interesting. She couldn't for the life of her see Three or Pearl doing this. It seemed so... _Pathetic_ in comparison to her own training.  
  
It was nice to get a basic refresher of the basics, though. Basic aiming, movement, ink spread, accelerated shifting from Octopus to Octoling, it'd really been a while since she'd had to do that without the threat of death looming over her head like a knife. And that was oddly unsettling. Had she really been in danger long enough that it had been some degree of comforting? She wasn't sure of how to ponder such a question. Or maybe she was just a big unhinged. Either way, it didn't truly say nice things about her state of mind.  
  
Pop. Pop. Pop.  
  
It was kind of relaxing. Being able to mindlessly destroy something.  
  
Not to mention, this whole little area was teaching her a lot about Inklings. First of all, like Octolings, they bore a _great and terrible_ and _perfectly reasonable_ hatred towards the unknowable abyssal terror of balloons. Secondly, Inklings were far too comfortable being lazy. She'd thought that the version of this area she'd seen in the Metro had been an old recreation, but it was the exact same currently. So either the AI was really good at recreating the Surface, or it had done it a while ago, and exactly nothing had happened. Eight didn't care to assign any form of competency to the AI, so she presumed that Inkopolis was just happy being awfully boring and lazy all the time.  
  
Thirdly, there was just. Art. Everywhere. The Underground had cracked down on that a lot, most art was confined to traditional styles. Rarely did anybody actually perform graffiti, let alone the murals she was glimpsing over the walls of the alleyway. People got arrested for that, and Sector Two was lenient on that sort of thing. But it seemed like up here, you could just... Make art. It felt weird, but Eight guessed it was just her culturally bankrupt upbringing that made her feel that.  
  
The last thing she noticed was something that occurred when she arrived at the launchpad - and it was that Inkling architecture was more confusing than she thought. Tara had told her to get to the launchpad, right? But that entire alley had barely taken two minutes to clear! Did she accidentally take a wrong turn somewhere? Because this _couldn't_ be it, right? There had to be something wrong, right? "Did I get lost somehow? Maybe I should go back..."  
  
"Congrats, kiddo! You're good to go!" Wait. What?! She'd barely spent more than _two minutes_ here! There were less than thirty balloons in this entire alley! How did this qualify anybody to use weapons! How did this count as any form of preparation?! "Hope you're ready for some serious Splat Battles!" No! Stop! Eight had so many questions! Was that it?! Literally two minutes on something she could run on autopilot, and she was ready to go?! She thought that this whole thing was supposed to be she did it now, so that she could jump in immediately at a later date!  
  
"Um! Is that it?"  
  
"Heheh! Don't tell me you're one of those kids who worried about this whole thing!" Yeah, she kinda was! How was this it?! Eight spent two entire years learning how to fight, and managing weapons, and the Octarian military had taught her so well she was considered one of Sector Two's best new soldiers! But here on the Surface, they just. Threw you into an alley for two minutes! And the lady said you were done! This. This was beyond insane. This was madness! _This_ qualified as preparation?! "Let me tell you something, kiddo. In a proper fight, no amount of planning works. So just take the basics, and practice, practice, practice!"  
  
So... Here on the Surface... They just... Threw Inklings into the deep end and hoped they made it?  
  
So people like the Squid Sisters, and Agent Three, weren't trained to be dangerous by any sort of training, they just... Fell into it?! They just picked up how to be absurdly dangerous as they went?  
  
So, in essence, the Octarians and all their technology and military tactics, had been beaten by a trio of complete idiots who had been winging it?  
  
...  
  
_This explained everything and anything she had ever wanted to know about Inklings._  
  
"You're all insane," Eight said in a tiny, terrified voice. "Oh gosh, I'm surrounded by crazy people."  
  
"Eh, that's life!" Tara replied sunnily, like she was a normal person. "Come on back and you'll have your first Splat Battle ready and waiting for you!"  
  
Eight sprinted onto the launchpad and catapaulted herself towards Inkopolis Square as fast as she could physically manage. Everybody was insane. Oh no. This explained everything, and she hated it so much. The moment she landed in the Square, her eyes locked onto Pearl and Marina and, oh look, Three was done with her business, Eight could use another person to help her cope with her panic. "All of you!" Eight babbled as she ran over. "Insane! Mad!"  
  
"She finished Tutori Alley, didn't she?" Three said simply.  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yeah. I still don't get the issue." Ah. That was right! Pearl was an Inkling, and therefore she was a crazy person! Oh geeze, this was so dumb!  
  
Marina, thankfully, waved at a chair. "Take a seat. Don't worry. Anyone intelligent knows that Inklings are crazy." Oh, thank everything that at least Marina was some degree of normal! Eight sat down at the table and sighed as a large orange cup was pushed at her. Mm. Delicious. And not **TRAITOROUS** like that worthless Cocoa from the other day! The taste of this not at all heretic drink was a soothing presence on the increasing panic and understanding that Inklings rarely had any idea as to what was going on.  
  
Ignoring her panic, she chose to turn to Three. "How was your business?"  
  
"You're in the clear," Three replied as she chugged down something labeled as a latte. Thank goodness she wasn't going to be arrested for being a criminal! That really would've put a dent in her plans! "Congrats. You are officially not a criminal."  
  
Yaaaay. Bluh. Eight let her head hit the table. "How do you all deal with it? I feel like my mind is melting into a goo." An actual goo, not the nasty green stuff. Because gross.  
  
Pearl grinned. "When I got something in my head that's weirding me out, I just rap until I forget about what's weirding me out!" There was a long pause before she broke into a verse. "Princess MC here on the track, gonna attack ain't gonna retract don't turn your back you got no tact, this track is done, it's all done and wrapped." Pearl folded her arms and nodded seriously.  
  
"... You achieved a fucking career with that?" Three asked seriously. Which was rude! Eight liked it! "That makes me sad."  
  
"Shut up! I'd like to see you do better on short notice!" Pearl growled.  
  
It said a lot about Three that Eight had known her for less than a day now, and she didn't even have to look to know that Three was making some kind of sarcastic gesture. Probably rolling her eyes or something. "I know it doesn't look like it, but I do have some form of fucked up self respect to maintain." OHHHHHHHH. Pearl made a noise like a Splatling going off at high speed, and Eight could not blame her! "To answer your question, I don't. I just fucking bottle it all up. And one day, I'll _die_. And that'll be fucking amazing."  
  
... That implied a lot of things. Eight was comfortable with exactly zero of them. "... Three, are you okay?" Three just made a noise of vague confirmation and slumped forwards. "... Um. Okay? M-Marina?"  
  
Marina smiled. "I try to keep my mind off it and just do stuff that needs to be done. Sometimes I do work, and compose some new beats. Others, I tinker with some tech that Pearlie bought for me to see how it works, because it's interesting!" _Wow_. What a surprise. A Sci-Ops engineer messing with technology for kicks. That _never_ goes wrong. "And when I'm really hunting for stuff to do... When I need to take my mind off everything for a while... I take care of my weapons. Like this one!"  
  
She reached beneath the table and held up what looked like a-- Oh, hey! "Oh, you use Brellas?" It was a lot more... Surface-y than the Brellas that Eight was used to. Most Octobrellas were a uniform black or black with a grey camo pattern or black with a grey and black camo pattern applied on top of it. This one? Bright red, yellow and white, and covered in bits of checkerboard patterns and lettering. "It definitely looks, ah... Um..." Eight desperately searched for a word that wouldn't offend Marina. Because. That was just. Wow. Perhaps Marina had gone a bit odd being on the Surface for so long.  
  
"Colourful?" Three suggested.  
  
"Yes! That."  
  
Marina patted the Brella fondly and popped it open. "Yup! This was my first weapon here on the Surface, my trusty Splat Brella." It was only slightly different from the Octobrella. The nozzle was withdrawn, preventing ink waste. The trigger was smaller, almost a button. Which was infuriating, Eight could almost picture herself accidentally pressing it. Ink canister was just behind the shield mechanism, which was... An odd placement, considering... But other than that, it seemed almost substandard. "Pearl actually bought it for me... But isn't it cool?"  
  
Oh, so very cool. Eight almost wanted to try it out, but she then remembered that Shooters were far superior to mundane Brellas, regardless of any patterns that it may bear. She did feel sorry for Marina. Even if she was a foolish fool. "It's not bad. For a Brella."  
  
"Brellas are better than Shooters. For one, we don't get splatted so often." Hah! Eight knew that was a freaking _lie_. Most Brella users just spread out their losses. It didn't mean that they were any better.  
  
"Hyperbole," Eight replied shortly. "Pearl, Three. What do you two have?"  
  
A manic grin appeared on Pearl's face as she lifted a pair of odd Dualies. Not like anything she'd used back in the Metro. "Check it out! Dapple Dualies! I got dodge rolls for _days!_ " Huh... They weren't much like other Dualies she'd ever seen. The ink canister was fully contained in the upper body, and the triggers were more easily pressed. The handles looked... Fine, if a bit unusual. The nozzle wasn't out of the ordinary for Dualies, typical jets. She imagined that the lower half of the weapon was simply for weight and balance, but that was just a guess. "I'm the best shot around with these babies!"  
  
"Dualies are pretty neato." Even if they weren't as good as a standard Shooter. "I spent a while practicing with Octodualies. Not for me. I did like the dodge roll, though."  
  
"Probably because the dodge roll is the most important part about them," Three mentioned. "And with enough practice, you can use it with any weapon." Wait. Wait. Wait. You could... You could learn how to dodge roll without the jets from the Dualies? So... So a Shooter could get even more useful if you crosstrained it with how to dodge roll?  
  
Her mind began _spinning_ with ideas. Pearl made a dismissive noise. "Pffft! Who cares? That's stupid League style stuff anyways, and nobody wants to be League!" What?! But that was super useful! "Listen, Eight. League is the _worst_ form of Splat Battling, and it's awful."  
  
"Imagine boot camp," Marina explained. "But you do it repeatedly. For _fun_." That. Was. Really dumb. Eight didn't really have any words for that! Boot camp was not only boring, it created an atmosphere of general dread and terror so you did whatever the instructors said. Eight hadn't exactly sprinted away when she had been assigned to... To... Whoever her captain had been, but it was _close_.  
  
Three glanced to the side and nudged the Roller that was leaning up against the side of the table. "Just bought this fucker. Brand new Splat Roller. I actually do own another one of these, but I didn't bring it with me today." Huh. It was actually... Fairly plain. Definitely an improvement over the old Rollers she'd seen - the total length had been shortened, the ink canister no longer got in the way of the grip, the axle that the arm shifted on had been vastly improved, and the roller itself was thinner, so ink wouldn't drain as fast. "Almost everything else I own is old gear, from before the Specials Act passed."  
  
"So what you're all telling me," Eight said slowly. "Is that you all chose the least useful types of weapons, and I, despite being the rookie, am in possession of the only _decent_ weapon? Is that what I'm hearing? I'm fairly sure it's what I'm hearing." Ah, the expressions of those who were in denial of Shooters being the only truly viable weapons in a fight. Everything else was tolerable, and a good soldier could use anything in an emergency, but Shooters were the only weapon of choice for serious fighters.  
  
They all looked at Eight like she was evil. Which was wrong! Eight only wanted the best for all her friends! And if that meant weaning them off subpar weapons, then so be it.  
  
Marina shook her head in amusement. "Let's just get into a Splat Battle before we all get into an argument about which weapon type is better." She sprung up. "Brellas are the best!" she yelled, before sprinting away at high speed. Pearl, Three and Eight sprinted after her, yelling the whole way. That jerk! Running away before anybody could correct her blatantly wrong opinion!  
  
Marina, once they caught up, adamantly refused to admit that she was wrong. Eight felt very sorry for her crushing inability to understand facts.  
  
"Oh, hey kid! You ready to battle?" Tara asked. And... She guessed so? Putting aside how little she actually knew about Splat Battling period because she had been incredibly poorly prepared for it, Eight was actually a little excited to try it out! It seemed like it would be pretty fun, even if everyone who did it was flying by the _seat of their pants how did this society survive at all?!_ Okay, maybe she wasn't _totally_ over that bit. But maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked! Maybe it wasn't the deranged fever dream of a lunatic! Maybe! Just maybe... It made sense.  
  
HAHAHAHAHA. Oh, Eight was _good_ at jokes. "U-Uh, yes! I, um. Am."  
  
Tara looked at Marina and Pearl curiously. "Been a week since I saw either of you girls. Been busy lately?"  
  
"You could say that," Marina chuckled weakly. Pearl gave possibly the most forced and fake smile that Eight had ever seen, possibly of all time. "We've been really... Busy, lately." Wow! Eight knew for a fact that they had been helping her a lot in the Metro, and even _she_ didn't buy that lie! She considered that perhaps Marina was just not good at lying, but then Marina also thought Brellas were better than Shooters, so perhaps she was only good at lying to herself.  
  
Tara nodded to herself. "I know you two are all famous now, but don't think you're not welcome to some normal Splat Battles, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, Tara! We'll be around more often! This week was just super crazy is all!" Pearl rambled. "You watch! When me and Marina get some free time next, we'll tear up some serious Turf!"  
  
"Yeah, totally!" Marina promised.  
  
Tara hummed in a way that sort of communicated that she'd believe it when she saw it. "Is the new kid your friend or something? Because I've got to admit, she looks real similar to you, Marina." Um. Marina? Please tell her an excuse! Please tell an excuse, because Eight has got no excuses! "In fact, I've been seeing a whole lot of kids similar to Marina lately..." You could physically see the gears in her head beginning to creak to some sort of conclusion.  
  
"UH. UH. UM. SHE. UH." Come on, Marina! Excuses! You're smart! You were Sci-Ops! You've probably made loads of excuses for all the explosions your department made over the years! Put that brain to use for once! Do something that doesn't force Front-Ops to cover for your stupid butts for once in your life! _DO ANYTHING THAT MEANS A FRONT-OPS SOLDIER DOES NOT SUFFER BECAUSE SCI-OPS ARE INCOMPETENT_. No, Eight wasn't annoyed about the _month and a half_ she spent guarding Outpost 12 in the middle of nowhere because some Sci-Ops idiot decided to start brewing explosives without telling Central, _why do you ask?_ "It's a! A real! Um!"  
  
Three sighed. "You're an idiot." She looked at Tara. "They're cousins."  
  
"Oh, that makes sense!" Tara replied happily.  
  
"You all owe me one," Three said grumpily. Actually, you know what? Eight didn't need to keep mentioning that Three was being grumpy, so she'd not mention it unless it was important.  
  
Tara blinked. "Do I know you?"  
  
"... No." Wow! That was somehow an _even bigger_ lie than Marina saying they were busy! It was astounding how awful everyone around her was at lying! Eight was better than all of them at lying wait no that's actually a really bad thing don't brag about that. Um. Eight was. Better. At. Um. Think... Expressing the truth in a creative manner better than everyone else. There. That was a much better way to say that! "We've never met. I'm usually in here on wednesdays."  
  
"Oh, really? That's my day off," Tara said sadly. "It's sad that we haven't met before now!"  
  
"Yeah. It is." How big. How big of a lie can Three pull off? This was a question that must be answered. "Anyways. Eight's got a new license, right? Meaning no Ranked, League or Clownfish Park until she hits level ten?"  
  
Marina nodded. "Yes. It's Tuesday, and it's just after twelve, so... We can either hit Inkblot Art Academy, or we can go to Sturgeon Shipyard... Eight, it's your call." What? No! Don't put that sort of decision making pressure on her! Uh! Um! Uh!  
  
Suddenly, her mouth, traitorous piece of her body that it was, decided for her. "Inkblot Art Academy!"  
  
Pearl cheered. "We get to mess up those stupid stuffy jerks! Lemme tell ya, Eight! Anybody who says they graduated from Inkblot is a jackass and up their own ass." The four of them walked into one of the various tubes around the Deca Tower lobby, which was marked with a bright green ink splatter. "Modern art is the actual worst thing in the world."  
  
"Modern art is an oxymoron," Three replied.  
  
Marina rolled her eyes. "Phillistines. Just because it doesn't appeal to either of you!"  
  
Eight chose to ignore everyone as she observed the inside of these tubes, which were weird. There was a big vidscreen on the wall with a picture of what she assumed was Inkblot Art Academy, and beneath their feet was the oddest Spawnpoint she'd ever seen. Half of it was dark blue, while the other half was bright orange. It was also big enough to hold eight people. And then just below the vidscreen was a smaller vidscreen with eight empty slots, and a small port next to it. "Um. What's this?"  
  
"Oh, that? That's the sign-in. It's basically so that when the match starts, and experience and money that you earn are deposited directly into your account." Oh! That was pretty useful. Marina slotted her license into the port. Pearl followed her lead, and Eight decided to try what they were doing. Suddenly, three green bars appeared with their levels and names in them, all in bold white letters. Three nodded and silently placed her own license into the port, and a fourth green bar appeared.  
  
_\- Level 45 Marina Hyperfresh_  
_\- Level 48 Pearlescent_  
_\- Level 01 Eight_  
_\- Level 81 Trina Morgue_  
  
"Your name is Trina Morgue?" Pearl asked incredulously. Three gave a nod. "What the hell was your family on, dude? Who calls themselves the Morgue family?" Wwwoah... That... Eight didn't really get why that was so weird, Trina was a really pretty name... Suddenly everyone was looking at her. Why was everyone looking at her like that? Why was Three blushing for no reason? Unless... Ah, biscuits.  
  
"I said that out loud, didn't I?" Pearl and Marina nodded before bursting into laughter. Three blushed and pulled her Classic Straw Boater down over her eyes. "I'm sorry! I didn't! I didn't mean! Ignore me, I'm an idiot! That's! I! SHUT UP! AAAAAARGH!" _YOU. STUPID. DUMB. DUMB. DUMMY._ Three was gonna hate her forever now! And everyone would mock her forever! Oh, this sucked! Could she die? Forever? Was that an option? Dying forever sounded like a really good idea!  
  
Marina recovered enough to gasp out a few words. "Eight! Eight! Relax! Can we tell you a thing?" YES. TELL EIGHT LOTS OF THINGS. TELL HER EVERYTHING. TELL HER SO MUCH THAT EVERYONE FORGETS THIS CONVERSATION. "The, the, hehehe, the Spawnpoint we're on? Whichever side we're on when the match starts, that's our colour." Oh! That was interesting! That was really interesting! Please! Tell Eight more! Tell her so much more! Don't stop talking now!  
  
Pearl nodded, breathing hard. "Y-Yeahahaha, so we were thinking, gaHAH! That you'd wanna side with your favourite colour, right? Orange?"  
  
Right, obviouslyyyyyyywait oh no oh no oh no oh no stop nodding stop nodding! Damn it Eight! Stop nodding! "Wait! No! I didn't mean! No!" Everything sucked today, oh no...  
  
"This is getting out of control," Three muttered. "Oi! Before you idiots decide to die of hysteria, can we discuss our Frequencies in advance?" Oh! Right! That was a really important detail! Frequencies were an extremely useful tool in any inkbased line of work. For some reason, Inklings and Octolings could emit an incredibly minor and specific sound by vibrating their now useless ink gills on the back of their neck. This sound was essentially an SOS noise, and anything with proper sensory organs could make their way to the source using the shortest possible route. Eight wasn't entirely sure of how it worked - again, not Sci-Ops - but she _did_ know that it was only possible due to magnetic fields warping spacetime.  
  
Marina and Pearl spent a few more moments laughing before collecting themselves - because they were being really big jerks who Eight wasn't a big fan of at that particular moment - and nodding seriously. Pearl tapped her Dualies and spoke first. "Right... So, I'm the only person here with Beakons. What frequency works for you?"  
  
"Set it to 22.40," Three mentioned. "Then we take 22.41 through 22.44. Makes life simple for us."  
  
Pearl nodded. "Fair enough, I'll manage that. Gonna assume you want 22.43?" Three laughed. "Alright then. Uh, Eight, you take 22.44, I'll take 22.42, and Marina can take 22.41, because she's number one in my heart." Awww! That was sweet!  
  
"Aww, Pearlie! That's so sweet, I almost thought about letting you get more points than me!"  
  
Three made a sound of pure disgust. _"DO YOU HEAR IT SLITHERING INTO THE VOID, TWISTING, TURNING, TIS NOT FROM MY SOUL THAT IT STEPS FORTH, THIS CREEPING DISGUST, THIS UNEARTHLY CONTEMPT, SUCH IS THE FORCE OF THE DISTRAUGHT VORTEX, THAT WHICH UNHINGES THIS REALM FROM SIGHT. YET I SHALL STAND IN THE FACE OF THE UNYIELDING TERROR, IN THE FACE OF THE RUINOUS DEPTHS THAT PLAGUE OUR MINDS. FROM BENEATH A LAKE OF SHADOWS ARISES A TEMPLE OF OBSIDIAN, COUNTLESS RUNES CARVED UPON IT'S SURFACE. THIS IS MINE, I SAY TO THE UNCARING REALM BEYOND. THIS PLACE, AND ALL WHO DWELL WITHIN, ARE WITHIN THE CHAINS OF MY GRAND DESIGN."_  
  
"Piss off!" Marina growled. "We're putting up with you, you can put up with this for a few minutes!"  
  
_"SHALL I RELINQUISH THIS HOLD I HAVE DUG? THIS SMALL AND UNYIELDING THING IN THE COSMOS, THAT IS MINE AND MINE ALONE? NAY. I SHALL STAND HERE, FOR ALL ETERNITY. I SHALL AWAIT UNTIL THIS PASSES, UNTIL ALL THAT EXISTS HAS TURNED TO DUST AND BONES AND SLUDGE. YOU ARE NOT MY JUDGE, NOR ARE YOU MY KEEPER. I SHALL OUTLAST THEE THROUGH SPITE. NO MATTER WHAT FORM YOUR DISEASED MINDS TAKE, WHATEVER SHAPE YOUR UNHOLY POWERS FORGE FROM THE COSMOS, I SHALL OUTLAST THY DEMENTED FERVOR."_  
  
"SHUT UP!" Marina yelled. Which was kind of upsetting, because Eight was kind of getting into it. It was super interesting!  
  
"Woah woah _woah!_ Is that teenage angst I hear?" Eight turned and saw-- Oh, that was Agent Four! She was wearing different clothes, though. Instead of the bright yellow jacket, she was wearing a weird orangey-white skirt with a tie and a weird black jacket, some black socks and shoes, and a white thing that was clipped to her tentacles. Speaking of, her tentacles had changed from the other day - instead of being short, she'd changed it to a single long tentacle that came down to her waist. "Well, look who it is? I thought I heard your overly wordy mouth somewhere, Morgue!"  
  
Three tightened her grip on the Roller in her hand. "I thought I smelled an _overconfident piece of shit_ heading this way, but then it's hard to distinguish you from your friends. God knows you fucking shitheads all look and act the same." She relaxed and leaned against the side of the large tube. "But whatever. You four just keep shooting for the stars. It'll make it more fun when I _kick you back into the dust_ where you belong."  
  
"YOU SICK SONUVA--" One of the girls standing behind Four started yelling. "Why don't we just kick yer ass and throw ya to the curb?!"  
  
Three laughed. A cruel, dangerous, spiteful thing. Just hearing it sent shivers down Eight's spine. "Oh, I'd welcome it! But then again, we all know that you shitheads just can't fucking hack it against somebody with actual skill outside of your shitty little minigames." Wow. Eight could just see the wave of anger that Four's group was emitting. "Eight. Allow me to introduce Fyra's Furies. Don't bother remembering any of their names, they're about as important as a garbage bin."  
  
Four gave a dangerous scowl. "Fine... You wanna play it like that? Okay then." She looked at Eight with a somewhat less severe look. "So. Sorry I didn't introduce myself. My name is Fyra. Fyra Kale. We met the other day, but we didn't talk much." Oh! So... So that was her real name, then? Huh. It was... Certainly a name! It was a name, and it was definitely not a bad one!  
  
Yeah, Eight didn't know if that was a good name or not. "Oh, uh. Hello! It's nice to meet you?" Was it? She didn't want to offend Four or Three. So... Cautious questioning was required.  
  
Four-- No, Fyra, gave a terse smile. "Yeah, nice to meet ya. Shame you're hanging around Morgue. God knows you could use better company than the living embodiment of _boredom_. Anyways... Guessing this is gonna be your first Turf War, right?" Eight nodded hesitantly. "Well, I'm always up to help out a new player. Maybe you'll even see sense, and become a Ranker like us!"  
  
"She has _standards_ , Fyra." OOOOOH. "Unlike you and your friends. Are you wearing _Amiibo_ gear?"  
  
"Oh, this little number? You know it! Our latest contract is with Mr Iwata! Super important!"  
  
Three gave a smile that bordered on frenzied. "Ooh, I am going to ENJOY ruining your day."  
  
Fyra scowled as her hand darted towards the Inkbrush stored on her back. "You'll get yours. But... Anyways... Eight! This is my team! They're all really great! Furies! Introduce yoselves to the fine lady right here, she's putting up with Morgue, god knows she needs some kindness." Eight wasn't really sure of what to think about all this anger. It seemed pretty unhealthy.  
  
The only boy of the team held out his hand. Eight shook it. Only polite. He was wearing an entirely dark outfit, with dark purple plastic guards on his skins and hands, and a thin strip revealing his eyes. Three would later tell her that this was a ninja costume. "Hey. My name's Benny. Nice to meet you. Even if you are playing with a jackass like Three." Eight glanced at his hip. A Shooter, huh... It was definitely a Barrel-type nozzle, streamlined... Hm.  
  
The girl who had shouted out earlier let out a frustrated sigh. "Sup. I'm Violet. Don't expect any kindness from me. Fuckers who side with Three get everything they get." She was wearing a weird flowing jacket covered in gold, an eyepatch, and a big pointed hat with a skull on it. Did she shop at that Hellshakers place they'd gone to...? "Fyra, why are we doing this?" Fyra stuck out her tongue. Violet gave an exasperated groan. Eight spied a dark blue weapon poking out from her back. All she could tell was that it was pretty bulky...  
  
The other... Person? Eight couldn't tell. About the only physical feature she could see was that they were short. Every single part of their body was covered by gleaming steel, even their head. There was a bright blue arrow around the area where their eyes would be, but aside from that, your guess was as good as hers. A long pipe attached to an Ink Canister was attached to her back - possible Charger? "Um... Hi... I'm Blake."  
  
"Can we get this over with? I want to play Tower Control sometime today, Fyra." Violet practically punched her license into the port and stood opposite Team Eight-Three-Pearl-Marina, on the blue side of the Spawnpoint. Blake repeated the motion almost immediately and shuffled into place next to Violet. Benny sighed and input his license.  
  
Fyra grinned as she moved to input her license. "Looking forward to knocking you down a peg, Trina."  
  
"Over my rotting corpse," Three replied with a grin.  
  
_\- Level 60 GoldenEye_  
_\- Level 52 Chargerbot_  
_\- Level 57 Benny_  
_\- Level 75 Fourth Strike_  
  
The screen flashed. BATTLE TIME!  
  
Eight glanced at Three and followed her lead. She shifted to Octopus form, changed her colour to a bright orange, and then dove down into the Spawnpoint. The trip was surprisingly short, a mere split second compared to the three seconds that most Octarian Spawnpoints forced. And in a moment, she was there. So this was an art academy... She had no idea what it actually was. She could see some art here and there, but it wasn't nearly as interesting or flashy as any of the art she'd seen near the Square...  
  
Was this where they _imprisoned_ all the lesser artists until they brought their art up to par? It certainly seemed to be that way... Hopefully, one day they'd all be freed from their punishments.  
  
Music floated through the air, and everybody lifted their weapons. "Ready to fight, Eight? All you've gotta do is cover the ground in as much ink as you can!" Pearl yelled.  
  
Eight breathed in. Breathed out. Stress in. Stress out. Okay. Focus. "Yeah... Yeah, I think I'm ready."  
  
An oddly accented voice rang out, almost like it was an animal. _"THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!"_  
  
The Turf War began.  
  
"Just ink the ground?" Eight asked quickly. Time to get serious.  
  
"Correctamundo!" Pearl laughed as she ran forwards wildly. Three sighed and pushed her Roller down the alleyway to the left at a somewhat sedate pace. Which was odd, since Eight had been told that this whole event was TIMED, but whatever! What did she know? She was just a stranger to this whole new Surface world! Not like she understood what TIMED meant!  
  
Marina shook her head as she flicked open the Splat Brella and sent the shield flying off the main barrel. It went flying down towards some fences, leaving a trail of ink behind it. "Of course those two would just run off... Just treat it like a training exercise, you should be all fine!" But! "Stay safe!" Marina shouted as she ran off to go shoot the ground. Bluh! She just wanted to know which way she should go! Erm... Well... If she thought about it, Marina went right, Three went left, and Pearl went dead ahead... So go give Pearl some help, she guessed.  
  
Eight began covering some ground as she jogged along. At the very least, she could feel her Special bar rising quickly. What Special did this Shooter even _have?_ She bet it was something super useful like Inkjet or Tenta Missiles! Like, Eight wasn't a super big _fan_ of Specials? She preferred to get all her combat up close and intensely personal. It was part of the reason she wasn't a great fan of Chargers - you couldn't see your opponent realize just how utterly outmatched they were! Granted, that wasn't really an actual downside, and was mostly just a side effect of Eight enjoying her job, but the point still stood!  
  
This whole... Art Academy place was weird... She wasn't entirely comfortable. It was all so bland, and empty of anything resembling actual art. It was like. _Anti-art._ Like, even Kamabo, as terrifying and soullessly devoid of anything resembling organic architecture, had this whole Nightmare Steel And Blood aesthetic thing going on. But Inkblot Art Academy was just... _There_. Like, what was this thing? It looked like a big hand on top of a small pillar thingamajigger. It wasn't even colourful! This had to be some kind of punishment for inadequacy at their professions.  
  
Eight hopped off the ledge and ran into what looked like the center of the stage. Nobody was around. The steady _thunka-thunka-thunka_ of the Splattershot Jr was definitely calming her nerves. She thought this was supposed to-- **MOVE**. Eight sidestepped to the left and swivelled on her heels. There, just in the place she'd been a moment ago, was a Blaster shot. And standing behind where she'd been just a moment ago... Was the... Girl with an eyepatch whose name Eight had already forgotten. She seemed like a jerk, so Eight hadn't tried to remember very hard.  
  
Eyepatch Girl growled and held down the trigger. Eight backpedalled and did a sweet backflip off a nearby ledge to land behind a large... What was this thing, a crate? Eyepatch Girl kept firing. Okay, Eight... Try to figure this out. For a Blaster, she was firing pretty fast. High damage, and Blaster meant most likely high damage... She risked a glance out of cover. A Splat Bomb skidded to a halt right next to her. Uh oh. Eight rolled out of cover-- Ah, crud! Right! The Blaster! Darn it! Okay! Time to figure this out now! Eyepatch Girl fired.  
  
Eight breathed out. Focus. The glow of the shot began to spread out. Another shot left the Blaster as Eyepatch Girl started taking steps back. Not likely. Eight pushed off the dirt and propelled herself forward like a dart. Just in time, too - the Blaster round detonated just short of tagging her heel. So the maximum range was two bodylengths, huh? Well... Fair enough. Eight ducked under another volley, letting it touch her would be dangerous even if the range was short, and rushed in. Eight pushed Eyepatch Girl against the nearby wall, pushed the arm holding the weird Blaster away - weird ammo, weirder design, she'd have to ask about that later - and pushed the Splattershot Jr up against Eyepatch Girl's chin.  
  
"I don't take kindly to sneak attacks," Eight informed her quietly, slamming her finger down on the trigger. She took... Not too much enjoyment from the way her opponent exploded into a spray of cobalt blue ink, splattering against her face, spreading a cold and wet sensation across her cheek and eye. "And I hope you remember that in the near future." Okay... Focus. Pearl had apparently thrown down two Beakons, as she was detecting two 22.40s nearby... Marina was up near the enemy Spawnpoint... Pearl was on the other side of the map to where Eight was... And Three was practically right next to her. Okay...  
  
Well, if that was-- Wait. A glint of blue crossed her sight. Eight dove backwards until she was against a wall. Great. So she had been right, and that Blake person had been holding a Charger. Okay, so. Charger protocols. Be extremely careful. Eight glanced out of cover. That blue lasersight slowly moved to where her head was, though Eight retracted it before the shot went off. Geeze, Blake hadn't been anywhere near where Eight was right now! They were still standing near their Spawnpoint! That Charger could really snipe all this way?! What the heck! Alright... Well. Always a way out. So... Chargers required equivalent charge time for their range. So if that Charger could snipe from that far away, it'd take more than a few seconds to charge again!  
  
Eight tossed a Splat Bomb out onto the nearby ramp. As expected, it detonated and inked the ramp. Blake, like an idiot, fell into Eight's plans perfectly and let go of her shot to turn the orange ink blue again. Ah, she did like it when people fell into predictable patterns. If you've got somebody pinned down, you have to keep them pinned down. So if they try to swim out through the ink, you have to shoot that ink to prevent their escape. Of course, if a Charger did that, they lost their charge. So it left Eight with plenty of time to just stand up, and then waltz away as the Charger attempted to lock onto her.  
  
Of course, that would work if she wasn't now standing next to the... Big... Central thingy. It had some glass boxes in it with statues. They looked pretty ugly. Anyways, Eight now had... Hm. Three escape options to work with. One, she runs to the right and retreats backward until the Charger couldn't hit her and wait for backup. Not favourable. Two, she Superjumps to either a Beakon or an ally. Also not favourable, as nobody was close enough to Blake to make it worth it... So she guessed she had to go with option three. Her least favourite option.  
  
"Bluh, this is going to suck!" A quiet roar rang out as a dark blue Ink Storm bloomed overhead. Great. So now she also had to deal with this nonsense as well! Wonderful. Oh, wait. Another Ink Storm, except this one was bright orange. So now she was just being hit by ink, but none of it was doing anything. This was why Eight wasn't a fan of Ink Storm - if you had it, somebody else fighting you had it, you both threw it at once, and it ended up creating a big bunch of nothing. Bluh... Fine, whatever. Get down to business. Eight shot the side of the large Center Central Big Statue Prison Thingo and swam up the side.  
  
And then that was when Fyra descended from above with a Splashdown.  
  
**SPLAT**.  
  
Bluh. Okay. So. She hadn't wanted to find out, but now she knew - getting splatted up here still hurt.  
  
Alright. Quick check. Eight stared out from the Spawnpoint and observed the general battlefield. Fyra was still standing on the Statue Prison. Good for her. Blake was still holding steady with that Charger, and wow, that was a long range... Eyepatch Girl was getting splatted by Pearl and her two fancy Dualies, good to know... And Benny was... Wait, what was... Oh. Those were Tenta Missile launchers. Darn it, she had only been a _few_ points off getting her own Special ready! Now she had to regather some of her Special meter.  
  
The familiar sensation of Tenta Missiles locked on. At least the Spawnpoint had a forcefield barrier to prevent her from getting hit while she was on it. Ten missiles fell down from the sky and slammed down right on top of the forcefield. Good! If he'd launched those in the middle of that Ink Storm, she never would have seen them coming! That said, she could see a few other Tenta Missiles darting in Marina's direction... Darn it! If only she could warn them! Moments later, Marina respawned next to her. "Hello!" Eight greeted her.  
  
"Hey, Eight... That Charger is really a pain, isn't it?" Certainly one word for it. Anytime Three or Pearl got even remotely close, Blake would fire. And the bright orange Shooter that Benny had was forcing them away long enough for Blake to fully charge their weapon again... Which left Fyra and Violet relatively free to cause whatever havoc they felt like. Alright then... Blake had to go. They were the biggest problem here, and anybody else was just secondary. "Is your Special ready?" Nope. Eight didn't even know what the heck it even was!  
  
"I wish. But... Huh. I have an idea, but it's super risky." If they could just manage it, it'd work! "Care to back me up? If we take care of Blake and stop them from getting a foothold again, we can probably win really easily."  
  
Marina nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Been too long since I helped out a squishyheaded Front-Ops anyways!" Hey! Eight wasn't a squishyhead! But it was good to know that Marina had her back. Okay... Focus. Plan the route. "What's the plan?"  
  
"We go surgical," Eight said calmly. Focus. "Dead straight. Shield against either Charger blast or Shooter flurry. Give me time to hit Blake somehow."  
  
"Hahaha! You've got it! Ready?" Of course Eight was ready!  
  
"Ready. Three, two, one, go!"  
  
Both of them rushed forward. Blake must have seen them both moving, because their snipersight moved to lock onto them. Not far enough yet. "She's seen me," Marina noted. She sped up just a bit, so that she was moving just a step ahead of Eight. The Shield wasn't unfurled yet, no point. It'd slow them down. Benny locked eyes with Eight. Must have seen what they were planning. Good for him! It wouldn't matter either way, of course! Because for what Eight had planned, his input was almost nil! "Pearlie! Take care of the Clash Blaster!"  
  
"YOU GOT IT, BABE!" Pearl's tentacles, already surrounded by an array of neon orange flames, grew more and more until they more resembled a writhing mass of light. "BOMBS AWAY, YOU FUCKS!" Insane laughter echoed outwards as Pearl fired more Suction Bombs than Eight had seen in her entire life. Two on the ground, another three on a wall, four on a weapon, more on a tree, a truly ridiculous show of power. She'd think it was overboard if she hadn't seen Pearl fire that Ultimate Killer Wail just yesterday.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Eight spied Fyra. They had to move - if they didn't make a certain speed and Fyra caught up... Well, Inkbrushes were fast enough that it would sink Eight's plan if she did. "No escape now, naughty children!" Uh oh! She had her Special! And if it was Splashdown... Darn it! A moment later, a bright orange ring bloomed outwards directly around Fyra. "What?! NO!" And then Three crashed down with a Splashdown from mid-Superjump and kicked up a wave of bright orange ink. Well! That was really nice of her! She'd have to find a way to repay that little helping hand.  
  
But focusing on her actual target... Benny was firing. Marina popped open the Shield. Ink began forming on the inside of the shield. Three more hits and it'd be done. "Eight! Now!" Right! Eight pulled her Sub - which, very conveniently, was a Splat Bomb! - and hurled it in an arc. "Hop up!" Marina fell into a crouch and skidded forwards. Eight rushed and hopped onto Marina's back and then jumped. Below her, the Shield broke, and Marina slammed six gutshots into Benny's body.  
  
Here is the major problem with Chargers - unlike the majority of weapons, they don't create spray when you fire one. It's a straight line. So when Eight leaped up and silhouetted the Splat Bomb against the sun with her body... When Blake fired directly at Eight? The shot slammed directly into the _Splat Bomb_ instead, ending the shot before it began. Despite the heavy steel helmet and the glowing blue arrow that served as a visor, Eight could almost _see_ the look of sheer terror that appeared on their face. "Veemo!" Eight roared, firing the Splattershot Jr rapidly. She landed in a roll and sidestepped a barely charged at all shot from Blake's Charger. "Nice try," Eight said seriously.  
  
She might have been a bit more satisfied than was entirely healthy as Blake exploded into a spray of cobalt blue ink, but then Eight didn't really care. Marina jogged up the nearby ramp to join her. "Nice one!" Hee hee hee! It was pretty smart of her, huh? "Oh, hey! I have an idea! If you can steal some of their base, they'll spend more time inking it instead of down here!" Oh, yeah... That was a really good idea! Marina was a pretty smart person. It was almost impressive considering how ninety percent of Sci-Ops was entirely focused around machinery and utterly incompetent at nearly any other thing ever.  
  
"Uh... Okay... Over there!" Next to the wall was a bit of weird wood. It had some blue ink on it, so it was obviously inkable. So it should serve as a pathway up! "Tell Pearl to Superjump to me in a few seconds, she can plant a Beakon up here!"  
  
"Oh! Good idea!" Heck yeah, it was! "I'll go tell her! You head up!" Right! Eight shot the wooden siding and swam up the side. Thank goodness for whatever created the ability to do that! Okay, she was up higher... And there was a ramp right to their Spawn! Okay! Gotta move! Eight dove forwards and curled into a ball right as somebody began to respawn. Whew! She was practically right below them! Okay, please go away, whoever you are! You are scary and Eight wants to steal your ground out from under you without your explicit knowledge! It'll be fun!  
  
"I can't _believe_ this!" Oh! Eyepatch Girl! "We have less than half the goddamn map covered! How the hell are we losing to a newbie?!"  
  
"She's good," Blake whispered. Oh good, she was there too. This was getting better all the time. Two people who she'd beaten in quick succession! How this could get any worse, she had no idea. "She blocked my E-Liter with a Splat Bomb." Heck yeah, she had. It was almost like Eight had skills!  
  
"She's at least as good as Three is," Benny replied uneasily.  
  
"From what I heard, she's better," Fyra replied. Great. The entire enemy team was up there! Wait. Were they... Mentioning how much better than Three she was? Well, if they were going to compliment her, she could totally wait a bit before ambushing them... "She beat Three, according to some mutual friends of mine." It had been grueling and torturous, but yeah, she'd beaten Three when she had that goop on her head. Which, if you thought about it... Made her stronger than the Octobot King and DJ Octavio? That. Um. Wow! She actually felt _really_ confident and powerful knowing that!  
  
"Wait. She BEAT Three?!" Eyepatch Girl yelled. "Like. Fairly?!" Oh yeah. Who's the coolest? _Eight's_ the coolest. She is the cool girl. It is her.  
  
Eight's good mood about being The Coolest Ever was promptly eradicated as Pearl slammed down next to her. "Hey Eight! You ready to ambush these punks? This is gonna be hella easy!" No! No! No! Pearl! The talking above them promptly stopped. "I mean, I don't wanna be a jerk, but these guys are downright SLOPPY! Never thought I'd agree with Three on how lame somebody is, but man! Hey, what's with that look? Eight? Eight!" Stop. Just. Pearl. Stop talking.  
  
"Ahem." Pearl and Eight looked up. The entire blue team was staring down at them. Blake pushed the massive steel Charger's barrel right up against Pearl's head. Eight sighed and closed her eyes. Eight could expect a lot of this in the future, couldn't she? Just. Perfect plans being ruined by ignorance or sheer happenstance. "Are you implying that we're idiots?"  
  
Pearl was silent for a moment. And then she put down a Beakon.  
  
**SPLAT**.  
  
Okay. So. New plan. Don't take Pearl for stealth missions next time. "Aw, man! Sorry Eight!"  
  
"It... It's fine. Let's just--"  
  
That same oddly accented voice from earlier rang out, followed by the voices of Pearl and Marina as they sung something. "ONE MINUTE LEFT!"  
  
Pearl swore loudly. "Eight, get that Special ready! We'll probably need it in the near future! They're gonna pull out all the stops, so we need to as well! We've only got sixty seconds left!" Right. Starting an internal counter. Sixty... Eight focused on everybody's Frequencies. Okay... Only one Beakon up near the Statue Prison, Three was moving fairly erratically near the right side of the stage, Marina was almost right on top of the Statue Prison... Okay. They needed to back Marina up, she wasn't moving much. Superjump! Woosh!  
  
The moment they touched down, Blake fired and took Pearl out. Ah, wonderful. Back to this. Wait. If they just... Could they? Eight generated a Splat Bomb and threw it underhand. It tumbled through the air, and landed right in front of Blake's feet. There was a momentary yell of alarm, and then a loud bang, and then nothing. No lasersight, so it worked! "I feel stupid that we didn't do that earlier," Eight informed Marina. "I feel really stupid that we didn't think of that." Because seriously. For real? They could've just done that the whole time?!  
  
Marina laughed and started covering the dark blue ink on the ground. "Oh, we're idiots." Eight nodded and followed her lead. Ink, ink, ink... Five, four, three... Ding! Ooh! Her Special was ready! She wondered which one it was! Okay, cycle through them, Eight! Figure out which one it is! Was it... Tenta Missiles? No. Baller? A Bomb Launcher? No. Bubble Blower? No. Inkjet? No. Ink Storm, Splashdown, no! Sting Ray? No! But! That meant...  
  
Oh no. She had... _Ink Armour._  
  
Eight hated Ink Armour. It was like... A discount version of a Bubbler. Literally the only upside it had was that it automatically gave it to everybody instead of just yourself. That was it. It took two whole seconds to activate, it only withstood so much damage, and worst of all, it restricted your vision! Eight hated it so much. So much. She was probably going to have to use it at some point. And then on the day she died, her friends would surround her, and ask her... Eight? My old friend? Do you _remember_ that time that you used that awful Special?  
  
And Eight would look at them, and say NO. Y'know. Like a _liar_.  
  
A Splat Bomb rolled to a halt next to where Eight was standing. Eight glanced up. Ah. Eyepatch Girl. "GET FUCKED, YOU GODDAMN NEWBIE!" Ahhhh... So there she was. Okay. Eight rushed back over to the Statue Prison and exhaled as the Splat Bomb detonated. Great. Okay, how do we deal with this issue? She was up on that ledge, so no chance she could outspeed the Blaster bullets... So the only real way to deal with this was to just... Superjump away? She didn't enjoy that option.  
  
Fifty seconds left.  
  
A sharp electrical whine started up. Ah, heck. Eyepatch Girl had a Sting Ray. "TAKE THIS!" Eight sighed as she darted out of cover. Okay. Get close. That was the key to dealing with any Sting Ray. The further away you were, the faster and more dangerous a Sting Ray got. If you were close, they couldn't turn fast enough to deal with you. Eight dashed forward and inked ground as she went. Up the ramp - without making a sound, because Eight is skilled like that - and around the corner. Eyepatch Girl was trying to turn the Sting Ray all the way around, but it wouldn't be enough. Eight decided to just drop a Splat Bomb at her feet and smile as it blew Eyepatch Girl up.  
  
Ah. Silence.  
  
"VIOLET!" Oh, there was Benny. He was throwing something... "RRRGH!" Oh, did he have Autobombs? Oh, that was just... Positively _adorable_. Really, it was. Because as stupid as it sounded, Autobombs were not good for actually attacking people. They were an option to force somebody's hand. If they're hiding, and an Autobomb comes around the corner? They have to move! But using them as a _weapon?_ No... No... No. You're an idiot. Because as positively stupid as it sounded, the best way to disarm Autobombs? Was to run _towards_ them.  
  
Forty seconds left.  
  
Benny opened fire. Eight grinned and returned fire just as fast. Here is the problem with this. Eight had a Jet-type nozzle, which created a much wider spread of bullets than Benny's weapon, which had a Barrel-type nozzle on it. So with a single sidestep, Eight could still hit him, and he couldn't hit her. He spun to try and defend, but just... Didn't quite make it in time. So very sad! Okay, that's two down! Two to go! She'd try to go four for four!  
  
But she couldn't get any higher or closer to their Spawnpoint from here... Unless... Ah! Eight inked the side of a nearby box and swam up on top of it. Right next to it was another one of those Hand Pillar Thingamjigger Statue Thingy. If she inked that, and then did a big leap of faith... Okay, this would probably end up really bad, but whatever! Let's do it! Eight swam forwards and jumped, just barely catching the edge of the statue. It took her a bit of effort, but she managed to pull herself up. Right... Now if she swam from here, she could jump over to the right and hop up the ramp to run right to their Spawn!  
  
Thirty seconds left.  
  
Eight leaped over to the higher ground and quickly inked as much as she could. Throw a Splat Bomb or two, recharge, ink some more, hee hee hee hee! Okay, let's finish this up and-- **ARMOUR!** Eight activated her Special and let the Armour form up over her body. The familiar haze of ink rose up over her eyes, but only for a single moment - the Armour immediately broke as a Charger round slammed into it. Great. Blake was back up and causing problems. Time to move! Eight rushed forwards and grinned as she hopped up onto the alley next to the Spawn. "No escaaape!" Eight sang sweetly.  
  
The orange ink Eight was shooting was beginning to spread beyond where Blake was standing. She was gonna have to jump out of there at this rate. It did not escape Eight's notice that a small dot of blue ink just suddenly appeared on the ground. Really? You thought Eight was stupid enough she wouldn't notice that you threw down an Ink Mine? Wow. That was a whole new level of underestimation. Eight did a sweetass frontflip over the Ink Mine and sidestepped as Blake fired again. Nope! Wait, did Eight just dodge a point-blank burst of Charger fire?  
  
Huh. She was pretty cool. Yeah.  
  
Anyways, Splat Bomb. Blake backed up, but whoops! Against a wall. Bang. That was three!  
  
Twenty seconds left.  
  
"YO EIGHT!" Ah. There was Fyra. That Inkbrush of hers was spinning wildly, almost as rapid and deadly as a moving Ink Piston. The Inkbrush came to a halt as Fyra clamped her hand around the handle, letting it rest on her shoulders. Eight would have to be careful. Unlike the rest of Fyra's team, this wasn't something she could take lightly. This was an Agent. Somebody at least on the same level as Three, and Callie and Marie. And this wasn't Fyra she was fighting. It was Agent Four. "You ready to dance?"  
  
Eight barely knew anything about Agent Four. She hadn't gone to Octo Canyon since her cadet days, but she had heard about Agent Four stepping up just a month or so before she escaped. What little she did know was that Agent Four was somehow more deranged than Three had been, and spent much of her time laughing like a lunatic as she dismantled outposts. "As foolish as it might seem..." Eight stood simultaneously much more and less of a chance like this. Neither of them had armour on them, evening the field. But Fyra was wielding a weapon that she was so very, very familiar with. Meanwhile, Eight hadn't even made three minutes with this Shooter yet... "I'm always up for some fun."  
  
Fyra laughed manically. "BRING IT!"  
  
Ten.  
  
Eight weaved past the first hit and pulled the trigger. She couldn't just open fire here, it would solve basically nothing. She threw the Splattershot Jr to her other hand and then ducked back as Fyra seamlessly moved the Inkbrush back in a wide circle and into a downwards smash. Eight swept back in and fired another two shots, shifted, and swam behind Fyra's back.  
  
Fyra responded by removing her hand from the rear handle and slamming it into Eight's stomache, and OOF did that hurt! What was that even made of! Definitely something weighted and heavy, that's for certain. Fyra spun and moved the Inkbrush in a wide swing. Just getting hit by that would send Eight for a loop, and if that happened, it'd be easy as blinking to combo Eight to the point of splatting. So Eight just had to not get hit! Okay, stabilize your movements, Eight. Time unspooled like a ribbon. Unspooled was a good word, by the by.  
  
Five seconds.  
  
Wait for the moment. Eight began to move in the direction of the Inkbrush. At the last possible moment, Eight leaned back and let the Inkbrush soar over her almost horizontal body. The moment it did, she swung her leg upwards and brought it down on Fyra's arm. The moment it made contact, she locked Fyra's arm between her thigh and calf. "You're an Agent? You're not nearly as tough as Three." Ignoring the stunned look that crossed Fyra's face, Eight pulled and tugged Fyra off balance. And then, at the last moment, Eight brought the Splattershot Jr and pressed it against Fyra's head. "Buh-bye!" Bang.  
  
Zero.  
  
A horn sounded out, and all sounds of conflict seemed to stop. "Eight!" Oh! That was Marina! She was waving her Brella. "Superjump back to the Spawnpoint!" Um. Okay? Eight guessed that the match was over? The moment she landed back at the Spawnpoint, Three and Pearl started laughing.  
  
"Not bad for your first run," Three said.  
  
"Yeah! I saw that kickass last thing you did! You grabbed her arm and BOOM! Dude, that was so awesome!"  
  
A pair of oddly accented voices rang out. _"Calculating the odds! Counting the ink!"_  
_"Blue Team got... 35.4%! That's 860 points of the Stage! You did great!"_  
_"Orange Team got... 51.9%! That's 1258 points of the Stage! Super cool!"_  
_"The winner is... ORANGE TEAM! CONGRATULATIONS!"_  
  
... They won? They won! Her first match and she won a match! Awesome! "We won!" Eight cheered. She wrapped her arms around Three and squeezed tightly. "We won, we won, we won!"  
  
"Y-Yeah! Victory. Yeah. Awesome. Yup. Uh huh." She was doing her weird blush thing again.  
  
Pearl rolled her eyes. "Come on, lovebirds. Back to the lobby." Oh! Right! Eight hopped through the Spawnpoint and warped back to the Splat Battle lobby. The screen that had displayed the sign-in originally had now changed - instead of showing Levels and names, it instead showed a larger number next to each person's name. "Alright, let's find out how much I kicked all your butts!" But... Pearl was at the bottom of the list... And the numbers on the right that she didn't get said she did the lowest number of whatever those were. Hmm.  
  
Marina leaned in. "Okay... Ignoring the 1000 winner point bonus, Three got... Holy-- 1072 points?!"  
  
"I aim to please."  
  
"Oh, Eight! You came in second!" Wait, for real? She did?! Oh yeah! She knew that she was cool! "You managed to get 792 points." She guessed that was kind of cool? Eight didn't know. She'd have to look up what the average score was, because that way she could be properly impressed and smug about how cool she was.  
  
Pearl laughed. "Nice job, Eight! Most newbies only get like, five hundred in their first Splat Battle!" Wow! Eight felt so accomplished already!  
  
"I came in third with 762 points, not bad if I say so myself." Uh huh, uh huh... "And... Oh. Pearlie? You, uh... Came in last. 742 points." That... That still didn't sound too bad! It sounded pretty impressive!  
  
"... Right. Eh, still better than everybody else, right?" True. Nobody on the blue team had managed to break past 600, which meant that none of them were nearly as good at this as the orange team was! Heck yeah! "Oh, right! Eight, check your license!" Huh? Okay... Eight pulled out the license thingy and stared at it. The level bar suddenly filled with green before re-emptying, and the little Level indicator shifted up to 2. Right next to her name, a series of zeroes with a little gold thing next to it vanished as they were replaced with 1792.  
  
"What's that number up the top?"  
  
Marina glanced at it for a moment. "Your prize money. Congrats! You now have 1792 Shells in your account!" Wait! This was actual money?! What?! "That license also works as a credit card, by the way. So as long as you have the money, you can just use that to buy anything!" ... Eight didn't know what a credit card was, but she guessed she'd figure that out sooner or later. But still, this was actual money! ... Eight had never had any money before now. Her reward for working in the military was the chance to earn bigger rations of Nutrition Cubes. Not at all a big reward compared to this. Gosh.  
  
The Blue Team rose out of the Spawnpoint. "FUCKING SHIT GOD DAMN IT YOU FUCK." Oh. Fyra did not look happy.  
  
Three started laughing. Fyra swore some more. "Heh heh heh heh heh, Hahahaha, HaHaHaHaHa, AAAAHAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAAAH! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK SO FUCKING BAD! AAAAAAAHAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAAAH!"  
  
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP I HATE YOU SO MUCH!"  
  
Pearl made a nervous noise. "Maaaybe we should leave and let them talk this out."  
  
**"TRY ACTUALLY FIGHTING INSTEAD OF PLAYING MINIGAMES FOR ONCE!"**  
  
**"EXCUSE THE FUCK OUTTA ME, THE HELL DID YA JUST SAY?!"**  
  
**"YOU FUCKING HEARD!"**  
  
**"HOW ABOUT I RIP YA A NEW ONE YA REEL NECKED KELP CHOMPER?!"**  
  
**"THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!**  
  
**"REEL. NECKED. KELP. CHOMPER."**  
  
Three lifted her Roller murderously.  
  
Marina nodded. "Yeah... We have to wait three minutes before we do another Splat Battle anyways."  
  
Huh? What was that supposed to mean? "You mean we can't just go for another round?"  
  
Marina shook her head firmly. "Squidforce regulations say that after each Splat Battle, all participants must rest for at least three minutes before starting a new match." What?! But Eight was barely even winded! She could keep going for hours on end! "Yes, I know. It's dumb, you and I could keep battling for hours if we needed. But you know why it's important that we don't do that?"  
  
Gosh, Eight knew the answer to that. It was the same answer that Sci-Ops always gave to anybody when they were being reckless. "Ugh... Standard health and safety," Eight groaned.  
  
"STANDARD HEALTH AND SAFETY!" Marina interrupted. Ugh... Darn Sci-Ops.  
  
Marina continued rambling on and on about SHAS for a while, even while she bought everybody some drinks from a non-threatening vending machine. Eight immediately tuned her out. You learned how to do that after the third or fourth time a Sci-Ops Officer tried to verbally stab you with their continued speeches about how health and safety was all important, and you needed to be absolutely sure that _nothing_ would ever go wrong, and how Sci-Ops was always careful and every other Operational Division just did whatever they wanted without any precautions at all, why was Sci-Ops the only division that knew how to actually make things safe?  
  
You learn to drown that speech out with literally any other sound. Pearl looked annoyed, but she was still hanging on Marina's every word for some reason. While Marina was yammering about the most boring possible topic in the universe, Eight decided to take a closer look at her new weapon and Ink Tank. Mostly because it gave her an excuse to _not_ listen to Marina right now. If she asked, Eight could just say that she was inspecting her equipment to follow SHAS. Because. Y'know. It was really important to her continued lifestyle and such. Totally.  
  
Lying wasn't wrong if it was to avoid a Sci-Ops speech.  
  
Back to the gear. Any weapon had a number of important parts, but the most important ones were the main five. Six, if you counted the synch-panel. While most people would claim that it was the sum of the parts that made the weapon, these people were idiots. More specifically, they were idiots who had no idea how a freaking weapon worked. It was a machine. A very simple and uncomplicated machine, but a machine. Then again, most people in Front-Ops didn't actually bother to learn how their weapons worked beyond how to maintain it. Eight was not most people.  
  
The first and possibly most important part was the IMP, short for Ink Management Pipeline. Typically, the IMP was made of a smooth yet hard material shaped into a tube, usually some kind of Synthplastic. There were usually four of these pipes, and they all worked in unison. One was connected to the synch-panel to suck in ink from the ink tank. It was dragged up by the air pressure modifier. This ink was then dragged into the second pipe, which travelled into the Ink Canister. From there, a third pipe sucked it back out and moved it to the firing mechanism, and then a fourth pipe pushed it to the nozzle, or extrustion, or whatever the appropriate word was for the weapon you were using.  
  
Usually these pipes were all connected to the air pressure modifier, hereafter referred to as the APM. Some more experimental weapons connected the IMP directly from the Ink Canister to the nozzle, or the synch-plate pipe directly to the Ink Canister pipes. While these modifications did usually have some effect, typically longer ranges or higher damage, it was generally agreed that it wasn't worth modifying the standard, and as such, the 4IMP system was standard among Octarians. Not sure how that worked out here on the Surface, but hey, she'd find out.  
  
The second part was the Ink Canister. On the face of it, it was just a simple bottle attached to the rest of the weapon. However, that drastically undersold how it actually worked. The Ink Canister held a significant portion of ink, usually about one quarter of how much the Ink Tank held. While not much compared to an actual Ink Tank, the amount of ink that the canister held was more than enough to factor into calculations as to how much ink you actually had left to shoot. If you accounted for both the Ink Tank and Ink Canister when figuring out how much ink you had left, you'd get a much more accurate number.  
  
Due to how some weapons differed from standard Shooters, such as a Brella or a Roller, the amount of ink an Ink Canister held tended to vary. The standard Octoshot had a larger Ink Canister than an Octoblaster, for instance. Both of those were smaller than the Ink Canister for an Octoroller, as it consumed far more ink than either of them. And all three of those were larger than the Ink Canister for an Octobrella, which required very little in in comparison. And that's ignoring the Slosher, which didn't need an Ink Canister period - it _was_ the Ink Canister!  
  
The third part was the main body of the weapon. Generally, this was any part of the weapon that either contained or supported the main parts. If you were liable to fits of silliness or general oddity, you might call it the casing. All the IMPs and firing mechanisms and APMs and such were contained within the casings. In the domes, the body was created with a Synthplastic-Sardinium alloy, which created a substance that was almost completely immalleable and able to withstand a not insubstantial amount of damage. Judging from the look of the Splattershot Jr, it at least felt somewhat similar.  
  
What was most odd on this Splattershot Jr was the purple cap on the top. At first, she'd thought that it came off, maybe as a way to empty the Shooter. But it wasn't! It was just a bit of plastic you could take out and take back in as you pleased! She'd thought it was pretty weird, right up until she noticed the grey metal disc inside the cap. It didn't seem to do anything in particular, but Pearl informed her that it was something called a 'comfort weight', so it felt like you were carrying something instead of just a small piece of plastic, and that most weapons had one.  
  
Inklings were so _weird_.  
  
The fourth part was the handle. It was usually detachable from the main body for maintenance's sake. It usually held the synch-panel and one of the IMPs, but more importantly, it was where the trigger was, and was the center of the firing mechanisms. Pulling the trigger was the key to the whole weapon - once pulled, it activated the APM. This sucked in ink from the Ink Canister, which was then pushed towards the nozzle. Once there, it hit a secondary APM and launched it out in little bullet-type shots. The trigger being pulled also activated the synch-panel, and sucked in more ink from the Ink Tank.  
  
Some weapons had more unusual firing mechanisms. Burst-fire weapons typically used a quick-release shutter on the nozzle to create more standardized shots, or segmented the IMPs to allow only one shot per trigger-pull. Either way, burst-fire was awful and anybody who liked it was awful. Most Brellas had a secondary trigger mechanism to eject the shield, but the more experimental ones simply had to linked to the primary firing mechanisms so that the shield would launch if you held the trigger for too long, which was honestly really inefficient.  
  
And the fifth part was the nozzle. Of course, the most important part of the weapon. Well, on Brushes and Rollers it was called an extruder, but ignore that for now. There were three types of nozzle, though Eight personally only had experience with one. There were Barrel-type nozzles, where the main nozzle was recessed inside of a tube to reduce spray. There were Point-type nozzles, where the ink was forced into a point to reduce ink waste. And then there were Jet-type nozzles, which simply shot the ink without any modifications.  
  
There were quite a few modifications you could make to a nozzle. Vents to reduce spray, specific shapes of a barrel to force cleaner shots, even installing a secondary burst-fire function through modification. Possibly the most important part of a nozzle, however, was the Recycler. Typically, it took the shape of a cone surrounding the main nozzle. When any stray ink sprayed off to the side instead of firing directly forwards, it would hit the recycler and be bounce forwards with the normal shots instead of just being eaten by airborne microbes the moment it left the weapon.  
  
Now, this Splattershot Jr. Compared to her old Octoshot? Not great. There was no recycler, the main Ink Canister was small enough to fit entirely inside the body, the trigger didn't have a guard so she could fire it purely accidentally - not that she would, she wasn't that stupid but the point still stood, it had no grip for her to steady the Shooter, and no, just holding the front of the gun did not count, don't be stupid, and worst of all? It was all a single block. There weren't any joints, bolts, screws, there was absolutely nothing! So if it broke, it broke permanently.  
  
That last fact was infuriating enough all on its own. A good Octarian could figure out how to repurpose anything, how to fix anything, if they just knew how it worked. But if this broke, she'd have to rip it to pieces just to get to the internals! It was so frustrating she was almost tempted to do a swear! But that would be unprofessional. And Eight refused to be unprofessional. So... What did she do if it broke? Throw it away? That'd be an awful idea! You can always reuse anything, that was what Eight knew. Not in her mind. Not in anything so base. No.  
  
She knew in her hearts.  
  
Wait. Hold on a second, Eight needed to check on something.  
  
Yeah, Marina was still rambling about health and safety. Cool.  
  
Anyways. Where was she?  
  
Oh yeah. Equipment. She _guessed_ she'd have to get a new one? Ehh, but that just kind of chafed at her mind. She'd know that she couldn't repurpose it. She'd have to carry that weight. Honestly, the idea that it wasn't possible kind of irked her? It irked her. Heh. Wow. Okay. That was a new emotion. Irked. Eight was irked. Like, Destructive anger? Despairing rage? Those she was familiar with. Just. Vague irritation with the world? That was a new one on her. She was hoping for another emotion, the joy of understanding, as she inspected this weird Ink Tank.  
  
The basics of an Ink Tank were incredibly simple. It, like any weapon, was a machine. However, unlike a weapon, which had five major important parts, an Ink Tank had six. And they were all really super important. In fact, using weaponry without any of them automatically made fighting anybody a hundred times more difficult, as it meant that you had to perform all the little details yourself instead of allowing the Ink Tank to do them for you.  
  
There was the Ink Synchronizer. Aside from the Tank, the most important piece. By synchronizing the Ink Tank with the synch-panel on any weapon, it locked the flow of ink to that weapon and only that weapon. She wasn't entirely sure of how, just that it relied upon the little bacteria that ate ink. Eight had heard far too many horror stories about the early days of Mount Nantai, where weapons just took ink from any Ink Tank in the vicinity. Lots of people had accidentally run out of ink because of it, and were taken long before their time.  
  
There was the Tank. Of course, the most essential part of an Ink Tank. However, rather than just serving as a container for ink to fire from a weapon, it several layered transparent screens within it. The first layer simply illuminated the ink at full capacity, creating this groovy lava lamp look. The second layer allowed the user to check how much ink a particular action was using. The third layer created an X for the low ink warning when the Ink Tank emptied, and the fourth layer created a series of rings that activated when the Ink Tank began to refill automatically.  
  
There was the SUB-IAL, an acronym for _Super Utility Backup - Ink Assisted Loadout_. It assisted in the creation of Sub Weapons. This was useful, as it automatically created said Sub Weapons and only required ink as materials. While it grew less useful the older and more experienced you became, it was still quite a useful part in the hands of most people. Eight still needed to use it, if only because she hadn't learned how to generate Sub Weapons purely from her own ink yet.  
  
There was the SPEC-IAL, an acronym for _Super Performance Enhancement Contraption - Ink Assisted Loadout_. It served much the same purpose as the SUB-IAL, but on a much grander scale. While a person could charge their own Specials personally, the SPEC-IAL allowed the user to utilize their Special much faster than a person could manage on their own. It also refilled an Ink Tank upon use of a Special, but much like the Ink Synchronizer, that relied on the bacteria that ate ink. Whatever it was, it was definitely useful! It had saved Eight's butt more times than she could count.  
  
There was the SUB-SPEC Limiter, which was honestly speaking, she despised. It served two functions - the first was to store digitized information about all known SPEC-IALs and SUB-IALs for quick access. The user simply reached back, hit the button on the Ink Tank, and the system automatically generated the Sub or Special immediately. However, the system could only generate said Specials and Subs in one incredibly specific shape - and that shape was vastly more costly ink-wise than if a person generated it personally.  
  
The reason she hated the Limiter was that when you synched a particular weapon to the Ink Tank, the Limiter would read all the information it was given and then restrict your access to everything except what the database said you could have. If you have an Octoshot, you get Suction Bomb and Inkzooka. Period. You cannot alter what the Limiter gives you. She didn't know for certain, but she suspected that the Ink Tanks that the Squidbeak Splatoon used had more advanced Limiters - she knew for a fact that two years ago, Agent Three could create up to three seperate Subs.  
  
And there was the Colour Corrector. It scanned the colour of ink currently in the tank, and then locked that exact colour and shade in. If another colour attempted to enter the Ink Tank, it would be forced to change that ink to the same colour that was already in it. It was more of a safety protocol than anything else, as ink did not mix with ink. Kind of like oil and water, they just don't mix. The Ink Tank wouldn't transmit ink that wasn't the right colour, so the ink already in there would just sit there uselessly until the entire Tank was emptied and flushed out.  
  
Inklings up here wore their Ink Tanks totally vertically, which was honestly really confusing. Were they _asking_ for back pain? Octolings wore it diagonally and with three separate straps. It distributed the weight of the Ink Tank more evenly, and made it so that it felt like it weighed much less than it actually did. This in turn, created much less stress for an Octoling to worry about, and as such, enhanced morale.  
  
Okay. Now, Marina. Eight is _begging_ you, Marina. She's gone on a complete inner monologue as to how a Shooter and Ink Tank work in great detail just to pass the time. Eight is begging you, Marina. With all her hearts.  
  
Please. _Stop talking about health and safety._  
  
"Which brings me to my next topic!"  
  
_Uggggggggggh_.  
  
Eight noticed Fyra and her team storm past. None of them looked particularly happy in the slightest. "H-hey, Fyra! I'm sorry about..." Fyra stormed past silently. Aw. Meanwhile, Three approached with four cans of something oddly yellow and orangey. She, compared to Fyra, looked dangerously happy and gleeful.  
  
"Hey. I bring delicious apple juice. It is the fucking greatest," Three declared as she passed the bottles out to everybody.  
  
Eight looked at the juice and had a sip. Mm. Not bad. She kind of liked it. "Why did Fyra look so upset?"  
  
"I spent almost two minutes mocking their horrible failure to beat us."  
  
"Do you just _enjoy_ ruining other people's days?" Marina asked irritably.  
  
"Nah. I just enjoy messing with _Fyra_. It's fucking hilarious. None of them know how the hell to actually fight. They've spent so fucking long playing their shitty minigames, they've forgotten how to actually fight." Three took a sip of her bottle of juice. "Fyra is the only real threat there, and that's only because she's an Agent. The rest of them are just so fucking fun to wind up. Anyways. What were you rambling about when I came along?"  
  
"I was mentioning the necessity of Standard Health And Safety," Marina grumbled. "And it's place in modern society. Some people just think you can do whatever, and there aren't any consequences! These are people who think that helmets are lame, and that knee pads and elbow pads are pointless."  
  
Eight gave a silent prayer. She didn't want this to get uncomfortably angry like earlier. But she would very much like for Three to say something annoying, and end the conversation right there. Literally right there. Just. Anything. To stop Marina from rambling on, and on, and on about SHAS for the rest of their lives. Please, Three. You're Eight's only hope. Three opened her mouth... And then Eight felt her hopes and dreams _shatter_ like a sheet of glass. "Wait. You... You care about On-Site Health And Safety as well?"  
  
No. No, this wasn't _possible_. How could you _betray_ Eight like this, Three? How could you? "Yeah! I don't understand why most people don't! You agree with me?"  
  
"Fuck yes, I do! There's this stupid fuck across the hall at my day job, ninety percent of the time, he just refuses to do any fucking safety checks at all. Says that it slows work down and shit like that. Nevermind the fact his primary specialty is Blasters, and Blasters are the most volatile weapon type! You know how easy a Blaster can explode? Especially stuff like a Tribolter or Clash Blaster? _Real fucking easy!_ "  
  
"Oh my god, that would irritate me to the point of murder. Safety checks exist for a reason. You probably won't care, but the first time we tried to test a Flooder prototype down in the Domes? Tetral forgot to connect the IFF system to the AI's morality chip, so instead of just hunting down any foreign traces of ink, it attacked _anybody_ who went near it. Took us almost a week to fix it, the whole project nearly got axed because of it."  
  
"Holy fuck. I hate those Flooders, but god if that isn't a familiar sentence. Somebody forgot to do their fucking job, and now everybody gets to suffer for it. Hey, you were a combat engineer, right? You guys ever get the problem with weapons where the Ink Canisters were made from something shit, and they break if you overfill them? We got those almost every fucking week back when KOG did their attempt at making fucking Splatlings. Got to the point where if it said KOG, we immediately sent it back."  
  
"Nnnooo, our Ink Canisters were typically built to work long-term. Some of the experimental stuff was a bit less sane, though. Hexagonal Ink Canisters."  
  
"Holy _shit_ , I can _hear_ that being denied approval. Ink would get stuck in the corners of that shit so goddamn fast."  
  
"Somebody from Central proposed it and then threw a hissy fit when it wasn't deployed out to the general forces. We had to get _DJ Octavio_ to tell him what an awful idea it was before he backed off."  
  
"Fucking hell."  
  
How dare they do this. _How dare they betray her._ Eight had been counting on them getting angry at each other and ending the conversation right there and not continuing to talk about stupid Science stuff and literally anything except continuing to talk about Science. She couldn't trust any of these people. At least Pearl looked irritated by this now, but even then, Three and Marina seemed to be sinking into their own little world where they yelled about people who told them how to do their jobs when that wasn't how said jobs actually worked. This was such a darn betrayal. She hated them all.  
  
In fact, she-- ... That was interesting. Standing next to the Shoal, there was a girl in a white and green cap staring at her. Was that... Was that a thing Eight should check out? Was it, like, maybe something she should check out or not? Should she go check it out? Eight took one look at Marina and Three still talking and Pearl nearly comatose from the other two rambling on about science. Yup. She should go check it out right the heck now and _never regret anything ever._ Eight gulped down the entirety of her drink - it wasn't bad but she needed an excuse to leave - and stood up. "Hey, Three? Where did you get that drink? It was super delicious!"  
  
"Vending machine," Three grunted. She pointed over in a direction that was, thankfully, in the direction of Greenish-White Cap Girl. Awesome. "Take your license, it's got enough cash on it to buy you a drink."  
  
EXCUSE. ESTABLISHED. Awesome, now Eight had an excuse to go look into who Cap Girl was. Names were hard, descriptors were much easier. Too bad names were one of the few things she actively desired for. If Eight had a name, she might have cared more about the topic. NOBODY'S NAME GETS REMEMBERED IF EIGHT DOESN'T HAVE A NAME. Uh, that vending machine was... Oh, over there. Eight glanced at Cap Girl as she walked past. A few moments after Eight passed, Cap Girl started following her. Great. The vending machine was behind a wall, so she had some cover to kick the crud out of Cap Girl if she had to.  
  
How does this machine work anyways? "Hey." Eight ignored Cap Girl as she found a slot for her license to fit into. Beep. Uh... And then... Does she hit one of these buttons? Oh, okay, yeah! The drink thingy fell out of a hole on the bottom! The money on her license went down by roughly 20 points. Wow, it was that cheap? Truly, the Surface was a paradise of food if something as tasty as that apple juice stuff was only worth twenty of the monies. Or Shells, or whatever they were called. Eight didn't care. They were Monies. Not munnies, because that was just blatantly incorrect spelling. "Not a bad first shot."  
  
Uh. Um. "T-Thank you? I. I just want some drinks. Could you please stop staring at me?" Cap Girl was just plain unsettling to look at. Anywhere uncovered she cared to look at was covered in some form of scar or bruise. Cold yellow eyes, and short greenish tentacles poking out the back of her cap that appeared to have been _shredded_ somehow. That wasn't mentioning how, compared to almost everybody else in the Square, her clothes looked pre-owned. An old Grey Hoodie filled with holes, and a pair of muddy boots. It was like looking at somebody who hadn't changed clothes in twelve years.  
  
Cap Girl ignored her. "Most people tend to treat a Shooter like a Splatling with no charge time. You treated it like the close quarters weapon it is." Well duh! Shooters were great! High fire rate, good spread, little to no spray, they lacked any of the concrete weaknesses that nearly every other weapon type had, they were super cool! "I like that. Cool under pressure, a general pragmatic approach to your encounters with enemies, you've got some decent instincts under those silly tentacles..." HEY. Eight's tentacles were not _silly!_ They were practical for espionage!  
  
"And? What's your point?" Eight popped the cap off of a bottle of apple juice - and then DIDN'T PICK IT UP. Hah. True criminal genius right here. That had to intimidate her. "I mean, you're right. But. What's your actual point?"  
  
Cap Girl gave a cool stare. "Every now and then, my team and I come out here and practice communicating in the midst of chaos. It's a whole thing. Usually, we try to fight the toughest team around. But then you... Sent them running for the hills." Oh! So Eight was the Coolest and the Strongest? Finally. Nobody could beat Eight in a contest of Cool Dudes. She was the _Coolest_. "So consider this a request: I want to fight you. Fighting your team is a benefit, but... Being a Shooter specialist isn't really fun unless somebody else can see exactly how good your gear is."  
  
Eight breathed out excitedly as Cap Girl pulled the weapon off her back. Ooh, she wanted one of her very own! It was so beautiful! Proper trigger guard, textured grips on both the handle and the underside of the Shooter, rear mounted Ink Canister connected almost directly to the Jet-type nozzle! Easy access bolts for quick repair and maintenance, what a picture! "What's this tube, right here? It looks like it helps the APMs, but I can't figure out how..."  
  
"This one? It's a multi-phase IMP. APM in the handle, connected to an IMP. That IMP runs the length of the tube three times before connecting to the Ink Canister - creates an additional point five percent increase in the average Shooter. Trust me, it needs it - this baby guzzles more ink than anything else in the world." Cap Girl held out the beautiful weapon. "Here. Wanna get a feel in?" OH, HECK _YES_ SHE DID. Eight took the Shooter and aimed at a nearby wall. Heavier than the Splattershot Jr, but the weight of the ink definitely made up a portion of that. And the unique body that connected the Ink Canister to the nozzle? The shape almost perfectly offset any of the weight from the Ink Canister!  
  
A Shooter that perfectly distributed weight, but... "Subs and Specials?" She had to know.  
  
"On a normal Splattershot Pro? Point Sensor and Ink Storm." Cap Girl smiled, yellow eyes gleaming. "But this is a Forge Splattershot Pro. Different beast. Suction Bomb to bait enemies towards or away from my current position, and Bubble Blower to lock down escape routes." Woah! This was! Holy heck! Eight wanted one so very badly! Just even touching this was making her weak in the knees! She quickly handed it back and leaned against the wall with a smile.  
  
"I want one. I want one _so badly._ "  
  
"Level 20 or higher," Cap Girl replied. "So? How about it? Want to go a round or two?"  
  
Sixty seconds later, Eight was slamming her hands on the table and interrupting what was surely a fascinating discussion about whether apple juice or orange juice was better. "We need to go another match!"  
  
"But apple juice though," Three argued as she drank what was possibly her seventh bottle. "Apple juice is great."  
  
"Orange is better! It's actually got texture aside from water!" Pearl argued.  
  
"You shut your fucking mouth right now, or I will end your life."  
  
Eight interrupted, because she did not want whatever this was to escalate. _"Turf! War! Now!"_  
  
Everybody nodded and gathered their weapons. "Can I ask what brought this on?" Marina asked curiously.  
  
"Somebody has a better Shooter than I do and I need to throw myself against it."  
  
Marina shook her head, like a HERETIC, because she just didn't understand! "Of course you do. You're a Shooter fanatic, aren't you?" Eight nodded rapidly, because WHO WASN'T! They were just. Blatantly the best weapon! Eight knew this, because she was better with a Shooter than with any other weapon. Eight was good with almost every weapon, which meant that if she was good with Shooters, than a Shooter was just naturally better than any other weapon. "Are you going to engage solely with that person and ignore the rest of the match, or are you going to help?"  
  
"I'll help!" Eight yelled. Of course she would! Marina raised an eyebrow in a manner that was extremely doubtful of anything Eight was saying. "I'll help," Eight repeated, more truthfully this time.  
  
The moment they walked into the lobby, Eight saw Cap Girl and grinned. Cap Girl nodded. "You're here. Thought you would be." Cap Girl held out a hand for Eight to shake. It would be impolite not to shake it. Eight smiled and shook her hand. Behind her, two girls gasped in genuine shock. "I'm Kyrie. I'm hoping that we'll both learn something worthwhile during this fight." Eight did too. It'd be her first chance to get a look at exactly what that beautiful weapon could achieve in a fight... And the whole earning money and experience thing, but mostly, she just wanted to see what that Shooter could do!  
  
"Boss, can we get started already? I want to spill some ink already." A woman with short dark pink tentacles and grey eyes glared at Eight and her friends. She looked... Very angry. Not just grumpy, like Three was, but actually angry. She was wearing odd sporty shorts, some Red Power Stripes, a black and white shirt, and a nice looking cap that she had, for whatever reason, turned backwards. Like. Wasn't the point of a cap to cover your eyes? She was pretty weird, if Eight was being honest.  
  
"Oh, do be patient. I imagine we'll start in due time." Next to her was a tall woman with her two purple tentacles in a long braid over her shoulder, who appeared to be permanently smiling. Her red eyes locked onto Pearl with some amount of glee. She adjusted, in sequence, her beret, her sports shirt, her long fancy skirt, and then adjusted the way she was standing in her fancy strappy white shoes. "Well... Hello there, my _dearest_ Pearlie."  
  
Pearl, despite the fact she appeared to want to commit several murders, simply gave a vapid smile in response. "Oh, Ophelia! It has been too long, hasn't it? Such a shame."  
  
"You know each other?" Eight asked.  
  
"We've met," Pearl replied simply. Angry Girl laughed about something along the lines of 'Rich Bitch Fight' like it was the most hilarious thing ever. "Nice Cannon you've got there." Wait. That wasn't a Blaster? What the heck was a Cannon?  
  
Tall Girl, who was apparently named Ophelia gave an equally vapid smile and lifted her weapon, a grey rifle looking thing with a scope on the top. How it wasn't a Charger, she had no idea. "Oh yes. Daddy got it for me just the other day. A Superb Scope! Isn't it lovely?" It _was_ , but what was a Cannon?  
  
"Oh yes, very lovely. You said your... Father got it for you? I'd expect _nothing_ less!" This remark elicited several OOOHs from Three and Angry Girl. Also, what the heck was a Cannon?  
  
The fourth member of Kyrie's team growled. "Hey! Fuckheads! Can we go already?" He wasn't particularly interesting - he was just wearing a suit of samurai armour with a robot helmet. What the heck was a Cannon?  
  
Kyrie sighed. "Excuse him. He's a new hire. Anyway. The angry one is Jane, the one your friend has beef with is Ophelia, and the new kid is Lance. He's kind of an asshole. Care to start the match?" Eight did, but also, again, what was a Cannon?  
  
"Sure thing!" Eight just barely resisted asking what the heck a Cannon was. She really wanted to know. Looking over all of them, she was very confused. Kyrie held that oh so fancy Forge Splattershot Pro, a Shooter for certain. Lance had a weird Roller - some kind of shiny heavy duty frame on it... Look out for that... Jane had an odd pair of Dualies there - instead of Jet-type nozzles, they had Barrel-type nozzles. Weird. And Ophelia... Seriously. Again. It looked like a Charger, but apparently not?  
  
What the heck was a Cannon.  
  
Speaking of starting the match, this tube had a green and pink Spawnpoint, and was directly opposite where the Spawnpoint for Inkblot Art Academy had been. "Sturgeon Shipyard, huh?" Kyrie asked. "I see." Eight sincerely hoped that this person was not assuming she had any idea of what was actually going on, because that was most definitely wrong! Eight did not know what was going on at all!  
  
_\- Level 02 Eight_  
_\- Level 48 Pearlescent_  
_\- Level 45 Marina Hyperfresh_  
_\- Level 81 Trina Morgue_  
_\- Level 50 Kyrie_  
_\- Level 99 CrownedQueen_  
_\- Level 78 Jetstreamer_  
_\- Level 42 Lancer_  
BATTLE TIME!  
  
Eight changed her colour to a bright pink, and then followed her team down into the Spawnpoint. When they arrived, Eight found that she liked Sturgeon Shipyard. What was up with this place? It looked like something was being built, but she wasn't sure what... It certainly had lots of loud machinery humming in the background. Certainly reminded her of her childhood, though!  
  
_"THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!"_  
  
The Turf War began.  
  
"Watch out for that Cannon!" Three warned quickly. "It's lethal as fuck."  
  
WHAT THE HECK IS A CANNON!  
  
Three darted off to the left, and Marina ran off to the right, and Pearl just instantly sprinted forwards to start covering more ground, and that was a really bad idea because that meant that nowhere of the area they started in was COVERED AT ALL! Wasn't the whole _point_ of this to cover ground? THERE WAS SO MUCH GROUND HERE. So much ground. Fine! Eight would just. Ink up this patch right here. Yup. Okay. Inking. Just. Keep inking that turf, Eight. She thought that Marina was supposed to be smart. Three and Pearl not so much, they were Inklings, but Marina she expected better of!  
  
Bluh. Whatever.  
  
Okay. Base is inked, time to go find Kyrie and that neato Shooter! Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, she couldn't wait to fight her! So... Potential strategies here. Kyrie mentioned that the Shooter guzzled ink - most likely, she had to refuel every now and then. Possible reasons for that... Either long range, or high damage. Or _both_ , potentially. So keep the pressure on, don't let up, and try to drag the encounter out to force a refuel. As for the Sub and Specials... Suction Bomb was easy enough to deal with. Just keep your distance, and wait. Bubble Blower, though... A tough one. She'd probably use that less as an effective weapon and more as a wall to break down. Prevent the enemy from moving, prevent them from escaping...  
  
Oooh. Eight had shivers already. Speaking of shivers, this place was cold! Despite being under the warm life giving sun of the Surface, all the metal around here was ice cold to the touch. She guessed that all the workers weren't doing anything right now? Otherwise, this ship would've been finished by now. There were massive cranes towering over the stage, most likely to move large masses of material to finish this thing! Whatever it might be. And parts of this stage even had moving, shifting pieces! Granted, not the technological marvels that Octarian technology could create - but still!  
  
Compared to Inkblot Art Academy, this stage was incredibly small! Heck, she could even see-- **Left**! Eight sidestepped just as Jane tore past at high speeds. Okay, so she was reasonably sure that not even a Dualie dodge roll could make you move that fast, so what the heck was it?! Jane spun on her heel and lunged back towards Eight. Sidestep, sidestep, sidestep, get her into a rhythm, aaaand... "You're mine." Eight moved into the right spot and waited until Jane did her insanely powerful lunge again. Seriously, how was she moving that fast? The moment Jane started moving, Eight sidestepped once more and tossed a Splat Bomb.  
  
Jane shrieked loudly, almost like a Octosniper trying to sing, and then exploded. Whew. So those Dualies of hers let her cross distances at high speed instead of the standard dodge roll... That was something to look out for. But putting that aside, the size of this map would make sure that she fought a good number of people before it was over. Alright then... Inking some more turf, she swam up a nearby ledge and arrived in what was apparently center stage. Three was dealing with Lance in her typical way - that way being complete and total physical domination. "Fucking hell. Asshole could barely lift the fucking Dynamo, why the fuck is he using one? He thinks it'll make him look cool? Newsflash dumbass, it fucking doesn't. S2 Dynamos are all fucking awful anyway."  
  
"Three!" Eight called as she ran over quickly. Oh, Special was ready. Pretty fast this time. Maybe it was just luck, or something. Too bad it was Ink Armour. Bluh. "Hiya!"  
  
"Hey. Don't worry about the asshole with the Roller. They're an idiot. No fucking clue what they're doing."  
  
Eight smiled broadly. "Three, you shouldn't put yourself down like that."  
  
"Whuh-- You-- The-- RRRRRGH. I hate you _so much_ , fuckers insulting me for no goddamn reason. Callie is going to fucking love you, I swear to god." What? Callie was going to love her? THE Callie?! Oh wow! Oh gosh! Eight wondered if Callie would sign Eight's Octoshot! She needed that autograph! It'd be so cool! Oh, and what if MARIE was there as well! Oh woah, so cool! "HEY. Stop fantasizing about Squid Sisters for a minute." Absolutely not, cease your voice immediately. You _fool_. You _buffoon_. How dare you. Eight would fantasize about the Squid Sisters for as LONG AS SHE DESIRED.  
  
That said, not wise to linger. "What is a Cannon?" Eight asked quickly. "I've never heard of one of those before, not ever."  
  
"It's the Advanced version of a Slosher," Three replied as they inked some more turf, like that meant anything to Eight. What did that even _mean?_ An advanced version of a Slosher? But it didn't look like anything like a Slosher! "Technically speaking, it fires a Blaster-esque shot that arcs like an Explosher, only detonates when it hits something solid. Usually hits like a truck. Fast as one, too. Problem is, it's got a real fire rate problem. It can only fire one shot at a time - no rapid fire on it."  
  
... That was good to know, but something was missing. "Three. I have little to no idea of what you're talking about. An Advanced version?"  
  
"Y'know... The Advanced series? A more specialized form of weapon than the basic weapon? It's like how a Blaster is a more advanced version of a Shooter." Okay... That made some semblance of sense! It-- Oh, there was Jane again. Three casually held out her Roller and sidestepped as Jane lunged full tilt into the arm and immediately exploded. "Scrappy little brat, isn't she? Anyways. There are seven Basic weapon types, and seven Advanced weapon types, so--" What. Wait. No. Actually what.  
  
That would mean... There are _fourteen_ weapon types?! But! Eight had grown up only knowing that there were nine of them! Shooter, Blaster, Charger, Roller, Brush, Slosher, Splatling, Dualies and Brella! What the heck were the other types! How the, you can't, that... There were five whole weapon types that Eight had never even touched. Eight wasn't really cognitively aware of it, but she grabbed Three by the shirt and slammed her against the nearest wall. "SHUT. UP."  
  
"Um. Okay?"  
  
Eight leaned in so close that their noses were almost touching. "The moment this match is over, we _will_ be talking about all of those weapon types. Am I clear?" Three nodded rapidly and ran the moment that Eight let her go. Alright. Fine. That. Yeah. Okay. Fine. Eight could. Compartmentalize that train of thought. For now. She had other things to do. Like dealing with Jane again. Okay, seriously? This was getting annoying. How was she getting down here so fast? Unless... Oh. Obviously. Eight let Jane fly past and sprinted towards the direction that she'd come from.  
  
Ah. Yup. Just as she thought. Beakon. "Uh uh uh, my dear! If you break that Beakon... We break you." Uh oh. Eight turned to see Ophelia standing there with her Cannon. However that thing actually worked. Ophelia lifted the Cannon and placed the scope against her eye. Light gathered at the barrel. Time to move. Even with the advanced warning of the Cannon charging up, she still barely made it clear. That thing was practically launching Splat Bombs with how hard that Cannon shot landed! Okay... It needed charging time. So just get in close, treat it like any other Charger... A really, really, really dangerous Charger. "Oh, dear. You dodged. Oh Janey, darling! Care to box in our friend here?"  
  
"Pleased as punch." Jane stepped in, and dropped... Ah, darn it. Those Dualies of hers had Ink Mines. Okay, so... Options. Option one, she beat both of them and found another way out of here. Probably not feasible, given how Ophelia was shooting from a ledge. Option two, she just let herself be splatted so she could approach this from another angle. Probably wise, but she had too much pride to just let herself get hit. So... Option three it was. Outlast both of them, take them down when their Ink Tanks start to run low. This could take... Longer than she hoped.  
  
Jane lunged. Ophelia fired.  
  
Eight moved. Okay. Hyperanalysis time. Jane seemed to be moving over the ink - so just inking it wouldn't particularly matter much. Landing seemed to force her to stop long enough to halt her momentum. Solution? Get her into a rhythm, throw a Splat Bomb. As for Ophelia... Well... Not much she could actually do there, short of directly charging her. If she was honest, that Cannon seemed to be more trouble to deal with than taking care of it was entirely worth. Her only option was to wait for it to fire, hope that charging another shot would take long enough Eight could run up to her level, and then try to dodge the Cannon point blank.  
  
Eight was good at adapting to problems.  
  
Granted, nobody ever said that those adaptions were sane.  
  
But she was still pretty good at it.  
  
Eight backstepped and tossed a Splat Bomb in the general direction of where Jane would land. And like she thought, Jane overstepped - but the bomb exploded prematurely as a Cannon shot knocked it away. Darn it! And then Jane, instead of simply spinning on her heel, bounced off the wall and back towards Eight! She'd been holding back! "See ya soon!" Huh? Why-- SHE DROPPED AN INK MINE AS SHE PASSED OH NO. Eight hopped back, but the Ink Mine went off too soon. Eight grunted as the ink seeped into her skin. Great. So now she was weighed down with this stuff. Wait. Why wasn't Ophelia still firing her--  
  
_DODGE_. Eight yelped and threw herself to the side as another Cannon shot hit down right next to where she'd been standing just a moment ago. Eight would have seen the shots coming, they were glowing! So how did she not notice... Eight suddenly remembered that Three mentioned that the weapon had an arc. Ophelia had been firing the whole time - she just fired up so that Eight couldn't see which way she was firing! Aaagh! What the heck was up with this! It was like fighting an... an Inkstrike. Oh. Okay. So this stupid weapon was just a way around that stupid Special regulation thing? Fine! Okay!  
  
EIGHT CAN WORK WITH THAT. EIGHT CAN WORK WITH _EVERYTHING_.  
  
So. First thing. Position Jane in a way that's useful. This way, attack from this way... Eight kept dodging Cannon-fire from above. Ergh... Ground was starting to look more green than pink, she should fix that... But she barely had the time! Between Ophelia's barrage and Jane's constant lunges where she fired those Dualies of hers, it was almost impossible to keep any percentage of this area pink. But, at last, she had Jane where Eight wanted her - directly across from where Ophelia was standing. Come on, now... Make her day.  
  
Jane lunged. Nice try, jerk. But Eight has your number! Jane rushed forward - right as Eight jumped and shifted in midair. The moment Jane was underneath her, Eight shifted back and bounced off her back to gain just enough height that she could shoot the crap out of Ophelia. To her credit, she didn't even look slightly afraid as Eight sent her back to Spawn. "OPHELIA!" Jane screamed, and activated her Special. Oh, wait! Ballers could climb up walls! Time to run! Eight decided that bravery was not stupidity, and promptly Superjumped back to Spawn. "GET BACK HERE!"  
  
Nope! Eight was GONE, my dude.  
  
Okay, back to Spawn!  
  
Right. Now. Marina and Pearl were... Oh, right below her! Apparently their base had been inked again, how she had no idea... Maybe that Roller? Or... Hm. Three was fighting somebody down near the right side of the map. Alright, time to move. Eight hopped down and started firing. Okay... So, she was a bit upset that she hadn't gotten to fight Kyrie yet. Like, that Forge Splattershot Pro was super cool! She wanted to fight it so very much. But so far... Nothing. Where was she... There was so little space she could actually be, unless she was actively hiding...  
  
"HEY!" Eight absently shifted to the side and let the weirdly shaped Roller fly past her head. Oh, it was the Roller guy. Wow. He was just... Not great. He needed like, a million years of windup to hit her! Like. Wooow, how cool! You could lift a hunk of useless steel and plastic! Truly, you are the master of combat, it is you. But for real? This thing looked like a hunk of junk, and Eight pondered for a moment if she even wanted to know what the heck it did. "Get over here! You goddamn coward!" Nah. Eight sidestepped another swing easily. Seriously? Come on. Eight was... Actually considering pitying this fool. He was just... So completely useless.  
  
Eight sighed as he-- Oh. For real? He had Ink Armour. Eight took advantage of the slow startup for the Special by simply splatting him. She felt kind of guilty for that. "Hey! Eight!" Marina yelled as she and Pearl ran over. "Having fun?" Eh. She was... Having some kind of fun. Everyone was so dangerous and deadly so far! But also, it was just... Kind of dull? She guessed that without the threat of being turned into goop or having a bomb attached to her, the threat of death had become somewhat bland.  
  
That really should not have been a thing. But it was.  
  
"Sort of? I want to fight Kyrie, but I can't find her. I think she's hiding."  
  
"Oh, aren't you a silly one? She's right past here," Ophelia laughed as she strolled right out from behind a nearby wall. Had she been there the entire time? And sure enough, Kyrie was standing right in the center of the stage. She _couldn't_ have been there the entire time, right? Ophelia smiled for a moment, before launching a volley at Pearl and Marina. "Those two, however! I do have some considerable problems that I must discuss with Pearlie... and her newest _paramour_ , of course."  
  
Pearl didn't even respond verbally - just a single, earbleedingly loud screech. Holy heck, was that-- did that scream just tear up ink from the ground?! Pearl was pretty strong! "EIGHT. GO HAVE FUN." In the flash of an instant, Pearl had torn a Bomb Launcher from thin air. Roughly twenty Suction Bombs loaded into a rapid shot Bomb Launcher, and that wasn't even counting how much ink Pearl personally was putting into the Special itself. "I NEED TO TALK TO MY OLD FRIEND."  
  
Um. Okay?  
  
Eight sincerely hoped that this didn't mean Pearl was going to do a murder.  
  
The moment Eight walked up onto the center of the stage, an Ink Mine formed behind her... Right. So this was happening, huh? "I don't appreciate this," Eight told Kyrie.  
  
Kyrie shrugged. "Had to know."  
  
"Fair enough. Are we going to fight now?"  
  
A dangerous toothy grin spread across Kyrie's face. "Thought you'd never fucking ask." The Forge Splattershot Pro - that was a mouthful, maybe an acronym? Think on it - suddenly swung up and opened fire. Right. Don't let her take the lead - get in close! Eight charged, not straight forward, but in a slight curve to throw Kyrie off her shots. Kyrie's response was simplicity itself, a single Suction Bomb hurled directly at where Eight was heading. She just threw it, so it had three seconds to detonate. Way too long to hit Eight. Which was really pretty--  
  
**SPLAT**.  
  
Eight respawned. That... That was interesting.  
  
She'd seen right through Eight. She... She'd _known_ that Eight would know how long the Suction Bomb took to detonate, and how it would be faster and safer to continue as she had been... So Kyrie just hadn't bothered to change her firing angle - she'd known that Eight would run right into her fire. Woah... So this was what the Surface had to offer in terms of tactics? Planning _around_ other plans? No wonder they'd never been able to beat Three, if this was how people normally battled! Still... Kyrie hadn't even moved! Okay... So Eight couldn't take her on like that. So... How do you normally take on somebody with better reach and strength than you do?  
  
It's simple.  
  
You use tricks.  
  
Eight sprinted back to the center stage, but instead of heading running to either side of the main bridge at center stage, Eight opted for a more... Direct approach. Eight inked up the side of a stack of crates and then swam directly up so she was directly above Kyrie. Alright. So here was Eight's plan. Generate one Splat Bomb, but don't activate it. Then make a _second_ , and don't start that one. Holster the Shooter at the hip... Okay, this should work. Gotta work with what ya got, right? ... Somebody told her that once. She doesn't remember who. But it should work.  
  
Eight darted out across the grating and jumped, throwing one. Kyrie fired at the Bomb - likely thinking it was a more pressing threat than Eight at the moment. Too bad for her - it wasn't even activated! Eight instead pushed off of the Splat Bomb in midair to alter her trajectory to the right, hurling the second. Kyrie sidestepped, and then looked surprised when she fell off the bridge. Heh. Eight landed with a short slide to bleed off momentum and charged towards where she'd seen Kyrie fall. A Suction Bomb spun up and landed just in front of her. Time to move! Eight darted onto the underside of the bridge, just as the Suction Bomb exploded and inked the wall that was her way back up.  
  
Eight looked up and saw Kyrie grinning. And... Uh oh. The green ink on her head was burning. Bluh. Kyrie pulled from her SPEC-IAL and started waving her Bubble Blower. A bubble here, a bubble there, one bubble in particular flew past Eight and came to a halt right next to... Ah. She was blocking off all the exits. Right. So she wanted this to be uninterrupted... Alright. So how were they going to do this? Kyrie lifted the FSP - much better acronym - and fired. Eight sidestepped and hid behind the weird. Colour. Blob thing. That was in the middle of the grated floor. Whatever it was. A barrier.  
  
Nailed it.  
  
Eight ran forward and fired at Kyrie. Kyrie frowned as the ramps behind her lifted up. No more going backwards! Another Splat Bomb for her, then! Making sure that Kyrie was on the move was more important than anything else right now - if she was allowed to fire, Eight was done for. Hmm. Almost out of ink. Alright then. Eight activated.... Eurgh... _Ink Armour_. The instant refill of her Ink Tank allowed her to throw another Splat Bomb. "I remembered something important... And it's why I'm going to win!"  
  
"Oh really?" Kyrie asked as she fired off a short flurry before ducking behind the barrier thingy. "What might that be?"  
  
"No ground for you to ink down here... And your weapon? It _'guzzles more ink than anything else in the world.'_ Getting you here was a fun accident, but I am going to milk it for everything it's worth!" Eight ran towards the wall and bounced off, letting her tentacles slam against the ceiling. Pressure pressed down against her suckers, and instead of falling... She simply hung from the ceiling instead of falling down onto the ground. And from up here... She could just _shoot_ Kyrie! Open fire!  
  
"Argh! What the--" Kyrie spun to try and look up. Too slow! Eight swung and pulled herself free of the ceiling and fell just behind Kyrie as the girl spun. Too bad her feet made noise on the metal grating. It would've been a great sneak attack if not for that. Eight moved to open fire, but Kyrie spun and slammed the rear end of her Forge Splattershot Pro into Eight's arm, and WOW that hurt! At least it wasn't a Roller hit, that would have sent her flying. "I don't know _how_ you got here without me seeing you, but I'm not one for tricks!"  
  
Eight grinned as she moved in and pushed Kyrie's arm away and forced the Splattershot Jr under her chin. "Really? Good. Because there was no trick. Just skill."  
  
Kyrie laughed. "Oh, good. I was feeling annoyed. Quick tip for ya." Eight suddenly reeled from a shock of pain as she stumbled back, and Kyrie lowered her knee. "Don't monologue."  
  
Who said Eight was monologuing? She pointed down at Kyrie's foot. Splat Bomb! Kyrie suddenly moved in a burst of motion - but didn't quite make it. Bang. "Heh... Hehehe..." Eight let out a shaky breath and covered her eyes with her right arm. Uuuf... Man, she was out of shape. This amount of movement and fighting shouldn't even wind her for more than a minute! Maybe she should try and do some more exercise before she tried to do more Turf Wars or something. "Oh man... Ugh. The Captain was right..." Right about what, Eight had no idea. But she got this general idea that whoever her old Captain had been, and whatever she had been talking about, she was right.  
  
"Lying down in the middle of a fight? Heh. You're more of a noob than I thought!" Huh? Who was... Oh. That was whats-his-name. The Roller Dude. He had that dumb big Roller that barely worked. And Eight was too exhausted to move. Wonderful. Eh. Eight did a sweet flip up to her feet and circled around him faster than he could react to. "What the-- You fucking cheater!"  
  
"No such thing as cheating," Eight replied. Bang. Okay. What was going on right now? Oh, wait! That last minute thing had started! How much time was left?! Had she been so absorbed, she missed it entirely?! Ah! How much longer?! Uh, um, uh, oh! Superjump there! Eight sprinted out from under the bridge, popped one of the nearby bubbles, and climbed out before Superjumping over to where Marina was. Marina turned out to be watching Pearl and Ophelia screaming and attacking each other. "What the heck is going on here."  
  
"GET HER, PEARLIE!"  
  
"LIA, KICK HER ASS!"  
  
_"YOU FIGHT LIKE A DAIRY FARMER!"_  
  
_"APPROPRIATE SEEING HOW YOU SING LIKE A COW!"_  
  
Yeah, Eight was just gonna... Go. Not. Deal with that. She was just. Gonna go Superjump to Three and not deal with that. Bye.  
  
One Superjump later, Eight was next to Three. "Yeah! You're all gonna be in this experimental film! And even though I can't explain it, I already know how great it's... I already know ending it's the part that makes your face implode. I don't know makes your face implode, but that's the way the movie ends!"  
  
"Uh... Three? What are you singing?"  
  
Three made a noise like she'd just been stabbed repeatedly and then flung herself off the nearest ledge. Which. Um.  
  
Eight was starting to wonder if maybe there was something dangerous about the Surface? Like, was there maybe some kind of airborne pathogen that made you go weird? Was that why Inklings were so dangerous? Maybe that was why Octavio was so determined to keep their race underground, trying to prevent this dangerous... Insanity Virus from spreading to the general population. It made a lot of sense, actually... Everything was so bright and disorganized up here. Was Octavio actually... _A good guy?_  
  
**_NAAAAAAH_**.  
  
No way. Screw that guy. Also, Insanity Virus was totally worth living on the Surface and not eating any more goshdarn Nutrition Cubes.  
  
But no seriously, what the heck was wrong with the Surface.  
  
Suddenly, and to Eight's vast dismay, the horn sounded. While the general sounds of weapon fire ceased, Pearl and Ophelia's screaming argument just seemed to increase. Much to the general discomfort of everyone. Thankfully, that ended when everybody Superjumped back to the Spawnpoint. "Um, Pearl? Why do you... Uh, not like that girl?"  
  
"Gee, I don't know," Pearl snarled angrily. "Couldn't _possibly_ have anything to do with how she _was_ my girlfriend and I found her making out with _somebody else_ in _my house_ in _my fucking bed._ "  
  
... Yeah, Eight just. Wasn't gonna touch that.  
  
Marina looked fairly upset as well. She was instead muttering something about shoving something up somebody's behind, and Eight just tuned out after that. Three, on the other hand, refused to react to any form of verbal stimulus. Eight was beginning to wonder if being predisposed to vast fits of anger was a consequence of being on the Surface.  
  
Those odd voices started talking again. What were those? _"Calculating the odds! Counting the ink!"_  
_"Green Team got... 31.4%! Not too shabby!_  
_"Pink Team got... 61.2%! Super awesome!"_  
_"The winner is... PINK TEAM! CONGRATULATIONS!"_  
  
... How did they win?!  
  
Eight barely did anything, and if what she had seen was any indication, Pearl spent most of the match brawling with Ophelia. So that only left Marina and Three as the competent women around, and while she didn't doubt them, that still left them against three people. Eight felt nothing but confusion as they fell through the Spawnpoint and arrived back in the lobby. Almost immediately, Lance began screaming about how everybody had cheated for some reason. Don't cover up your stupidity by saying everyone else was cheating, they will team up.  
  
Kyrie's team said their goodbyes and walked off, apparently not caring what their end scores turned out to be. Then again, Kyrie had said that this was just a team exercise, so maybe just knowing that they'd lost was enough? Eight didn't think she'd ever understand Inklings. On that note, time to check the scores! And. Um. They weren't great for Eight. She was... Not gonna lie. At all. Pearl was not at the bottom of the list this time. Eight was. "You went to go fight that Shooter," Marina established suddenly without turning to look at Eight at all.  
  
"It was a one time thing!" Eight yelled. It was! She promised. No more wasting time! Pure efficiency from here on out! She promised!  
  
Three was, kind of unsurprisingly, still at the top. Somehow she'd improved on her first score, moving up from 1072 points to 1102. What the heck was up with that? "Huh. That usually doesn't happen. How did I break 1000 twice in a row?" Three wondered. So... She wasn't always that good? That was a somewhat comforting though, now that she thought about it. "Not gonna lie though... I do love that nobody got within two hundred fucking points of me. Get on my goddamn level."  
  
Marina rolled her eyes. "Ignoring Captain Ego, here..."  
  
"I refuse that title. Call me _Major_ Ego. It sounds cooler."  
  
"I came in second with just under 762," Marina said quietly. She sounded a bit upset. "How did I end up coming second here? I know for a fact that Pearlie is faster than me, and Eight was Front-Ops, from the sounds of it. I should be the last person beating them."  
  
Pearl shrugged. "We got unlucky?"  
  
"Speaking of, Pearl, you got 745 points."  
  
Pearl laughed loudly and made to kiss her own bicep. Inklings were freaking weird. "Of course I did, babe! With these guns, how could I not? I mean, I am the best!" Wrong. The Best was... Something Eight couldn't remember. But it was definitely not Pearl. It was a close contest, though.  
  
"And Eight... Bluh. I hate to tell you... You barely scraped 600."  
  
... That... It...  
  
Right. Eight had spent most of the match running from Ophelia and Jane, and the other part of the match fighting Kyrie. She had only herself to blame here, and nobody else. If she'd been in shape, maybe... It was better that she got into shape really soon. Messing up like that again would mess with her way too much. Her team might have won, but that didn't mean it gave her an excuse to slack off! In fact, it meant that she had more of a reason to work than before! Yeah... Amping herself up would definitely make her work harder in the near future! Starting with figuring out what all those other weapon types were...  
  
Where was Three? Eight needed to wring her neck.  
  
Ignoring the EXP and money pouring into her license, Eight glared at Three dangerously. Three, Agent Three, the absolute _monster_ of a fighter who had fought off DJ Octavio and the Great Octoweapons, gulped and took a step backwards. "Weapons. We are talking about weapons." Eight glanced across at where Kyrie was yelling at Lance like a furious mother. "In just a little bit. Go wait outside for me. Don't try to run. I will find you wherever you may hide. Am I understood?" Three nodded frantically and power walked out the door. Both Pearl and Marina burst into hysterics and patted Eight on the shoulder.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I need to talk to her. It's... Personal." She noticed the concerned look they both had and gave an easy smile. "Relax! It's just about something she mentioned! I'll be along in just a moment!" They nodded and gave her a tight hug, which was admittedly really nice. Eight was not going to turn down hugs. Ever. No matter what happened. Hugs were really freaking important. Not just on a personal level. But on the professional one as well. Morale boosters. Yes. Totally. Morale Boosters were important. And that is how she will word it on a report if she ever has to.  
  
The moment both of them were out the door of the lobby, Eight stalked over to Kyrie. "You're a fucking idiot, and I can't believe I ever agreed to take you on."  
  
"Don't fucking yell at me!" Lance snarled.  
  
Jane growled. "Take that tone with the Boss again, and I'll have your guts."  
  
"Oh, don't do that, my dear! It'd be far more _interesting_ to fashion his innards as some form of haute couture. Possibly a scarf, or a shawl. Goodness knows he'd be more _useful_ that way," Ophelia said politely. Eight mentally told herself not to mess with Ophelia. She seemed dangerous, and Pearl definitely did not like her for a reason.  
  
Kyrie shook her head. "You barely _showed up_ on time, Lance. You showed up with an _S2 Golden Dynamo._ You insulted all of us, repeatedly, for giving you orders. I am this team's _leader_. If you can't even bother to _pretend_ to respect me, I don't have time for you. Well congrats. I hope you got what you wanted. You're off Team Kyrie."  
  
"WHAT?! BUT--" Jane pushed her odd Dualies into Lance's cheek. "Rgh!"  
  
"Get out of my sight. First chance I get, I'm telling Mr Grizz that you're not worth the time. Come back when you've gotten an attitude adjustment." Lance snarled something in a language that Eight wasn't familiar with, and then stalked past, deliberately trying to hit Eight on the way past. Meh. Too slow to actually do anything to her. "Ah. So. You're here. Guessing you want to know why?"  
  
"Maam," Ophelia sighed. "Could you please cease to be cryptic? This once?" She was ignored.  
  
Eight nodded quietly. "I recently just had some... Problems... With being tested. I'm not especially fond of tests period. At least the last tests had the decency to tell me it was happening. You? You _lied_ to me. This wasn't just a match. Was it?" She didn't want to be right about this. She really, really didn't. So... She had to know why. "I thought you wanted to fight another Shooter specialist. Not... Not whatever this was. I was really enjoying myself, and this... It... It ruined everything."  
  
Kyrie looked at Jane and Ophelia and waved them away, leaving just Eight and Kyrie alone. The two of them wandered just outside the lobby door and sat down on a bench just inside the large entrance, just under the shade of the large Squidforce logo. Kyrie pulled some kind of odd stick looking thing from her pocket. "Kelp-oil smoke," she explained as she lit it with a lighter of some variety. It had an oddly shaped symbol, almost a diamond, but with two semi-circles on the top half. "Long-form Ink Adrenaline Overdose. Gets bad if I don't calm down. The kelp-oil helps."  
  
"... I didn't ask for your medical history."  
  
"You didn't."  
  
"... Are you going to tell me?"  
  
Kyrie breathed in. "Alright. Firstly, I wasn't entirely lying. My team was actually here on a team building exercise. We battle every now and then to make sure that there aren't any big emotional fractures between teammates." Made sense. Grudges and angst between allies meant that stress forced it out in big, uncomfortable displays at usually the worst moment. Several Squads Eight had read about had it happen to them, ugly secrets coming out at exactly the wrong time. "That said. We saw you. And I just thought... God, she's perfect. We could use somebody like her."  
  
"This was a _recruitment pitch?"_ Eight asked disbelievingly.  
  
"Not for my team, personally. But for my overall job." She pulled a card and handed it to Eight. It was a small white card, with that same diamond shaped symbol, but the symbol had a more familiar icon in it - some kind of fish surrounded by arrows. Beneath that, the card was labeled GRIZZCO in large orange letters. And beneath that, in smaller blue letters, it said 'Making The World A Better Place Since 1917'. And then there was a bunch of stuff like numbers and stuff. "Grizzco does important work. Dangerous work. But problem is, it can get... Intense. So people just... Stop coming into work. Their heads just can't take it. So the problem is, we're almost constantly bleeding people."  
  
Ah. So this was an impersonal thing. She got that... Kind of. "You wanted to see if I could hack it?"  
  
"Something like that," Kyrie replied. "More like seeing what you did when you were against the wall. Jane and Ophelia are good at that... Forcing somebody to react. It's generally a good litmus test. And you reacted admirably. Ingenuity, adaptiveness, ruthlessness... It was like finding a jewel in the wreckage of... _Well._ Can't say. Contracts, you see."  
  
Eight hummed. She kind of got it. Back in the Domes, some work was just more important than proper protocols or authority. Stuff like reparing hull integrity, removing Salmonid eggs from the water filters, creating food, finding alternate sources of energy... While you could be reprimanded for it later, that sort of thing just had to get done - even if that meant temporarily defying even DJ Octavio. "... How dangerous are we talking, exactly?"  
  
"Rotten water." Ah. Yeah, that cleared it up. That was incredibly dangerous - and if Eight had any reservations about being used as an impromptu test subject left over, that erased them. "Gotta get done. And if we don't, then things can get... Ugly."  
  
"I see."  
  
Kyrie breathed out a puff of off-white smoke as she stood up. "Think on it, at least. Don't feel you have to. But. Y'know. Keep it in your mind. Useful as a part time job, at least. Useful for an out-of-towner girl like you, anyway." WHAT HOW YOU DON'T NO EIGHT IS NOT FROM OUT OF TOWN SHE IS TOTALLY NORMAL AVERAGE GIRL. "Please. Not every day a girl with physical conditioning just pops up out of nowhere. I don't know your story. But try to at least come up with an excuse for your skill."  
  
"A-Aah..." Okay. She. She wasn't onto Eight. She just. Knew. That Eight wasn't normal. Nothing there about Eight being. Somebody who tried to end her civilization one time. _Cool_. Eight was. Cool. With that. Yeah. She was fine. Yeah.  
  
"Anyways. If you're interested, come find our Grizzco Center. We're here in the Square." Kyrie walked away and waved carelessly as she went. "Seeya."  
  
... Right. Okay. Eight. Was. Not having a panic attack! Because. She was a very. Very mature person. Just. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Stress in. Stress out. Stress in. Stress out. Bluuuh, that was way too terrifyingly close for her own comfort. Eight stared at the card. It... Seemed interesting. But she didn't... She didn't want to go seek it out right now. Right now, she just... Wanted to have fun with her friends. So she stuffed it in her back pocket, collected herself, and stalked over to the table that Pearl, Marina and Three had staked out.  
  
She rested her hands on the back of Three's chair and leaned down to whisper in her ear. Pleasingly, she noticed that Three flinched at her voice. Good. She still had that terrifying presence. "Oh Three~ You didn't think I _forgot_ about the discussion we were about to have, did you?"  
  
"N-N-No! I didn't! I! I got the information you need!"  
  
"Good," Eight replied softly. "We'd have... _Problems_ if you didn't."  
  
Three babbled something incoherently as Eight sat down in the seat opposite her. "Yo-- Uh, the, it, the. Weapons!" Yes... Very good, Three. "You said you wanted to know about weapons! Um, j-just, y'know, uh, refresh my memory. W-What, uh, the, um, weapons? Are you familiar with?"  
  
Eight thought to herself for a moment. "Shooter, Blaster, Charger, Roller, Brush, Slosher, Splatling, Dualies and Brella. If I remember right, some people thought that a Rainmaker is considered a super advanced version of a Blaster or a Slosher... But that's about it. What are they? I desire answers."  
  
A moment passed as Three visibly collected herself and forced the blush off her face. "Alright. The IWTA has a multi-tiered approach to classifying weaponry. The first step is Basic or Advanced. Basic weapon types are Shooters, Chargers, Rollers, Sloshers, Splatlings, Dualies and Brellas. Among teachers or weapon manufacturers, they're often called a 'Pick Up And Play' weapon. As in, you can pick it up, and figure out the sheer basics of how it works within a few minutes. Pull the trigger, fires a shot, inks turf. Easy to take apart, easy to repair, easy to... Do anything, really." Made sense. If there wasn't some way to teach beginners how to use weaponry, there was no point in making more useful weapons.  
  
"Right... I get that," Eight replied slowly.  
  
"After that, you've got the Advanced weapon types. In exchange for specialization into certain roles, such as crowd control, higher movement, faster ink coverage, unique abilities, they're harder to use than any of the Basic weapon types. They're also derived from the Basic weapon types, so if you know how to use those, you should _probably_ know how to use these with a little practice. Blasters, Bows, Brushes, Cannons, Inksprayers, Splatterangs, and Stamps. Typically, they're considered a step up from Basic weapons. In general Splat Battle strategy, anybody with an Advanced weapon is automatically a bigger threat than anybody with a Basic weapon."  
  
What? But... Any weapon could be used to fight... "You can still win with the basics, you know."  
  
"I _know_. But Advanced weaponry typically takes more strength, skill and tactical knowledge to utilize. So anybody good with one?" Deserves tactical precedence... Alright. Eight could see that. She guessed. Maybe weaponry up here was different somehow. That said, she wanted to know more! "After the Basic/Advanced weapon type divide, there's the sub-typing, which sorts weapons into similar roles. For instance, both Pearl and that girl Jane were using Dualies. However, Pearl was using _Dapples_ \- quick dodge roll, fast fire rate, high damage, low range - while Jane was using _Jetstreams_ , which exchange a dodge roll for a quickdash, fast fire rate, low damage and middling range."  
  
"Oh, so... Different Dualies for different situations!" That was so weird! She didn't even know what to think about that? Why waste materials doing that when the basic format could do anything you needed it to do? Splat Dualies were useful enough, why alter it somehow? "What's the difference? Aren't just the standard model good enough?"  
  
Marina shook her head and held out her phone to show off two models of... Bluh. Blasters. "Some weapon models are made to vary specifications between weapons. Faster fire rate, higher damage, some things are just more useful with alternate specifications, you know?" Eight hummed and looked at the two. One was similar to the Octoblaster model, while the other was a larger and rounder model - apparently, the normal one had slow fire rate, while the rounder one had a faster fire rate. So... Specialization?  
  
"Most weapon types have... Roughly five sub-types right now," Three said after a moment of thought. "Shooters have eight, but almost everything else has around five. That said... There are no end of shitheads trying to establish new types. Unfortunately, I am _not_ allowed to harm any of them. Any of them you want to know about?"  
  
Eight nodded rapidly. "Tell me about the five I don't know about! They're new, and I want to know every single thing about them!"  
  
Three nodded and pulled up an image of a large weapon. It looked _very_ unwieldly. Two green arms with rings at the end, connected by a dark green handle. An Ink Canister was attached to one side of the handle. A thin red string was tied to each ring with a plastic red needle thing pointing through the handle in the center. "Right then... This is a Bow, the Advanced version of a Charger. The pros are that you can fire fully charged shots much faster than a Charger, you can arc them over obstacles, and it's a guaranteed instant splat if you land a headshot. Downsides are that you can't hold the charge, hold the string back too long and the arrow explodes in your face. Use it or lose it. Secondly, it uses more ink than a Charger. And lastly, it does less damage just landing bodyshots."  
  
Huh... "So in exchange for damage and a limited charge time, you can hit targets at long range even over any form of cover... I see." From the look of it, the ink gathered in the needle thingy to be fired like a subpar version of a Sting Ray. That would require high pressure at high speed... So it was much more likely to break or get damaged than a Charger. "It looks like you'd need to repair it pretty often, though."  
  
"Not really - Bows are made of some seriously sturdy stuff. Subtypes of Bows include the standard Splat Bow, Inkbeams, Multiblasts, Wave Arrows and Slingshooters. Generally, they're for somebody who prefers going on the more offensive approach with a Charger instead of long-range support." Hm. Food for thought. "After that, we shall cover... Cannons. The Advanced version of Sloshers." AH. Yes... Answers. Beautiful answers. Three flicked the screen and showed a simple weapon unlike the one that Ophelia had been using, more of a tube with an Ink Canister and a trigger than the rifle-esque weapon she'd seen earlier.  
  
"You mentioned... that they fire a Blaster-like shot. It arcs like an Explosher, and it only detonates when it hits something solid," Eight recalled. "Only one shot at a time. It sounds pretty awful."  
  
Three nodded simply. "Yeah, it's not great. A normal Slosher simply hurls around ink through momentum, while a Cannon fires the shot based on a parabola. Out of all weapon types, only a direct Roller hit equates to the amount of damage a Cannon does, but the blast gets increasingly weak the further you get from the center. Subtypes include Ink Cannons, Burst Cannons, Revolvers, Railshots and Superb Scopes." She flicked the phone image again and switched it over to what was possible Eight's new and most beautiful love. It was a large staff with a trigger with a specialised guard on one end, with the Ink Canister just behind the trigger. On the other end of the staff was a textured grip, and an Inkbrush tip tinged with ink. "So this is the Inksprayer. Advanced version of the Splatling."  
  
Eight wanted one. She wanted one so very, very badly. "I want it," she established immediately. It was important to put that fact on the table. If, for some reason, somebody was feeling generous, or wanted to get her a gift, then they'd think to themselves and go... _'Hey. Eight wants one of those. I should get one for her, because I'm a good friend._ ' It looked dangerous - moreso than any other type of weapon she had ever laid eyes on. "How does it work?"  
  
"See the brushtip?" Eight did, yes. "It's an aerosolizer. The normal ink particles are converted into a fine spray, sort of like Toxic Mist. The spray is wide and thick enough that bacteria literally can't eat the ink before it settles on the ground in an even layer." Ooh. That sounded really neat. She wanted to use one right noooowwww!  
  
Marina shook her head. "They're not _too_ great to use outside of certain stages," she warned. And that was how Eight truly knew that she was in Sci-Ops - always turning down great ideas from cool people. "They're incredibly heavy, so your movement speed is heavily reduced. And they're incredibly fuel inefficient, so you have to refuel every few moments just to keep a steady pace. That said, they cover a lot of ground very quickly, and they deal loads of damage."  
  
Right... So an Inksprayer was identical to a Splatling that way - high damage, heavy weight, and incredible ink spraying potential, all weighed down by the fact that they weren't a Shooter. Really, it was too sad. She'd like to try that Inksprayer dealie, but it was pretty obvious that it just wouldn't match up to the wonderland of beauty in her hearts. "I see... So it's completely useless, because it's too heavy to move it more than a foot before you get sniped by a Charger?"  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yeah, see, she gets it!"  
  
Three shrugged. "Sure, think what you want. Mable carries her Spraycan Inksprayer basically _everywhere_ , and she is ripped as shit. Just. Muscles for fucking days. It is like a bodybuilder dressed as a magical girl who is also a goth, and now that I have said that, I understand where some of my weirder dreams have come from. God, I fucking hate my goddamn mouth. I am too goddamn tired for this shit." She breathed out tiredly and tapped her phone. "Subtypes include Heavy Inksprayers, Fog Spreaders, Steamrushes, Light Inksprayers and Spraycans. I hate all of them. They're fucking cheap as shit."  
  
Eight nodded, ignoring the fact that she had no idea of what a goth or a magical girl was. Or bodybuilders, for that matter. But she agreed with what Three said. "What are the other two weapon types?"  
  
"Uh... There. Is. The... Splatterangs! God, I fucking hate Splatterangs."  
  
Pearl rolled her eyes. "Splatterangs are _cool_ , dude. I own like, six of them. They're super cool! You can throw them hella fast, and they spin through the air and come back to you!" She pulled out her own phone and pulled up a picture. It looked like a large V shaped hunk of green material, with nozzles across the outside of the V, and two little thingies on the tips. They looked a bit like the brush thingies on Pearl's Dapple Dualies, whatever they were. "They're fast, light, and don't use much ink! Only problem with 'em is that they don't do much damage, and you gotta wait for them to come back!"  
  
"They're the Advanced version of Dualies," Three explained. "And they're an affront to my goddamn homeland."  
  
"Ignoring Three," Marina said, looking not at _all_ guilty about doing that. "There's honestly not much to say about them. They're essentially just weaker Dualies with longer range. Subtypes include Splatterangs, Dasherangs, Quadrangs, Rangerangs and Bouncerangs."  
  
"And then there are Stamps," Pearl said finally. She pulled up a picture of a Stamp. It looked like a massive staff with a massive ink stamp on the end of it. It was carefully positioned on a hinge, and the counterweight attached to the stamp was hollow simply so that it could move along the hinge. Interesting... "They're the Advanced versions of the Brella, because that stamp bit on the end? It can flip on the hinge and act like a shield!" Oh! So... It worked as a... Brella but worse...?  
  
"Pearl, don't forget the most important part! It has an overhead strike, where you hit the ground like with a Roller? But the more ink that the stamp has been hit with, the bigger the paint it spreads!" Marina explained, and yeah, that made it way more interesting! A risk versus reward type thing! So the more the Stamp got hit, the bigger the splash it would make when you hit something with it - but the trade off was that you had to have people trying to hit you... Hm. "It's super fun. Though you trade off the actual shooting part of the Brella in exchange for melee combat, so it's not great for somebody like me! I'm kind of weak, you know?"  
  
Three nodded. "Yeah. Lots of people deride it for being a subpar Roller, which is definitely wrong. Subtypes include the Splatterstamp, the Sludgehammer, the Slamloofah, the Stringflail, and the Wallstamp. As an aside, I fucking hate Stamps. They are used by Granny Burnes, and I distrust Granny on basic principle. Mostly because she keeps _FUCKING TAUNTING ME_ but y'know. Whatever."  
  
Huh. Weird. "So those are all the weapon types?"  
  
"Yup. Granted, I could be wrong. New weapon types could've popped up during the two months I was gone." Three gave a look so smug, Eight was surprised she didn't just collapse into a black hole of ego. "But, I'm pretty sure they haven't. Any other questions?"  
  
Hm. Well... Eight did have other questions, like how Abilities affected them... But she honestly wanted to get back to playing Turf Wars for a bit. It was so much more relaxing and carefree than the drills they used to run! All the colours! All the lights! She just wanted to keep playing this forever! Even if that was somewhat unfeasible due to the limitations of time, but Eight did not care about time, nor the unceasing uncaring constraints which it used to leash the world. She just wanted. To chill out. Relax.  
  
"No... I think I'm good for now. Hey, when can I get a new weapon?"  
  
"Well... You should be either level 2 or 3," Marina noted. "I'd wait until you hit level 4, because you get a good selection at that point." Aw. That made sense, but also... Rrrgh, she wanted to see the weapons right nooowwww!  
  
Pearl yawned and leaned back a bit. "Yeah, dude! We've got like, almost an hour and forty minutes until the next stage rotation! No need to panic!"  
  
Yeah... No need to panic, huh?  
  
Eight could do that. Eight could... She could _totally_ , _completely_ not freak out and go investigate how to get more weapons. Totally. Eight knew what restraint meant. She could do that.  
  
_Totally_.


	4. Tearing Up Some Turf  - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions, please come ask me at my tumblr at sunsetconcert.tumblr.com, fuck html!

So as it turned out, Eight could _not_ do that.   
  
They'd done a few more battles, none anywhere near as exciting or energetic as the ones she'd already had. Apparently, skill varied incredibly wildly here on the Surface. Compared to fighting Fyra or Kyrie, nobody was quite nearly as dangerous. Which left Eight really, really, really bored. She just wanted to have some more fun! But apparently, all the children from nearby schools were hopping into battles during their lunchbreak, which was incredibly disruptive to their lessons! Surely, they should be simply eating and then going back to learning. It'd make more sense, right? How else were they supposed to learn anything?!  
  
So that was bad. It meant that Eight was bored. So bored. Outpacing literal children was no contest at all, and it honestly made her feel a little guilty for doing it. She was here for fun, not for ruthlessly destroying the Inkling's pride. Though that was fun too. But for serious, it meant that she was starting to not have fun? It was hard to have fun when you saw all the crying children. That was. Not a cool. At least Pearl and Marina could soothe it by having an impromptu autograph signing session. But still! She felt like somebody who wasn't cool. And as already establish, Eight was the Coolest.  
  
It didn't help that every time she exited the lobby, she'd see that wonderful shop right next to them - a shop marked as Ammo Knights. Every match, she'd see it. And every match, she would see somebody just waltzing right into that shop, and get a glimpse of what appeared to be absolute nirvana. She saw Shooters and Splatlings and Blasters and Brushes, Rollers and Chargers and Brellas, a beautiful landscape of ink-based weaponry to lay waste to her enemies! She could wait. She could wait. She could wait.  
  
Less than thirty seconds later, Eight was standing in the middle of the shop. And ooh, she was already in love! Arranged with almost Octarian efficiency and skill, but placed with caring love and tenderness! Lines of plastic hooks held up weapons across a wooden board. Various Bomb models were laid carefully in glass cases, and an array of tools were hung up on a nearby wall in such a way to facilitate easy access. Ink Tanks of various make - the smooth and black model she was using now, a model covered in decorative flowers, images of various creatures dancing around the tank - sat in a rack against the wall. What looked like a drawer full of replacement parts were bolted onto the wall, along with clear plastic boxes of bolts and screws and pipes. There was even a bookshelf filled with books about how to maintain and repair and even customize various weapons! It was... Truly... A PARADISE!  
  
"Eight," Three whimpered. "Let. Go. Of my arm." Kay! Eight dropped Three where she was and began to investigate the shop. Oh! That weapon looked interesting! An Aerospray MG... There was a weird bit of metal just behind the nozzle. Possible grip point? Oh! And the ink canister was top-mounted, like that Hero Shot that Three had! That trigger was super weird too! It appeared like it was collected to the handle on a hinge... Did it have anything to do with the IMP sticking out of the weapon? Weird! Back to the nozzle, it had a weird Barrel-type nozzle! It was almost as large as that of a standard Octoshot's Recycler, which was absurd! What purpose could it possibly serve?!  
  
Ooh! That looked interesting! A Carbon Roller, huh? Instead of the arm simply connecting to one side, it split to support both ends. There was also a guard behind the extruder, connecting to the general frame of the Roller. The hinge that the Roller flipped on was also improved, seeming to swivel instead of simply flipping up. The ink canister was pretty weird as well - light-weight, and instead of being directly plugged into the Roller itself, it was slotted into a frame! Wait, what was up with the handle?! It was all bent, how did anybody hold this one? Oh, wait... If she held it like this... Oh, yeah! Woah, the whole thing was super light! The frame had to be made of something incredibly simple! What the heck, dude!  
  
Wait wait wait wait, what was this one? Dark Tetra Dualies... Ahah, she saw! So the ink canister was contained just behind the Jet-type nozzles, which most likely enhanced fire-rate. And there were two nozzles, so it probably fired faster just in general! It'd probably result in lower damage, though. Either that or lower range. What were those thingies on the bottom, though... Wait, jets? Extra nozzles? Hmmm. Possibly the jets of the normal Dualies, but enhanced somehow? Oh, obviously! Additional rolls! Now what the heck was that trigger? It was pathetic - almost as bad as the trigger on the Splattershot Jr. Maybe if she switched it out for a proper click-trigger? Food for thought!  
  
Ah! Now this was something she liked! She'd seen Blake using it in her first match! An E-Liter 4K. Not the name she'd have picked, but whatever. Okay, so! First off? That ink canister? Ooh, _baby_. She was already in love with that thing! Not to mention she could actually see an APM module attached to the underside of the ink canister, and the IMP collecting it to the main barrel was way thicker than most were! She didn't quite get what the heck the yellow bits were for, but she guessed it was some form of comfort weighting. The one on the middle of the barrel seemed like a decent grip, if not great. Nozzle was... Barrel-type! Why not put a Point-type nozzle onto it? It seemed like you'd get a much further range with that! And that little black bit on the end... Actively obstructed your sight when you were aiming. You'd have to either remove it or aim with your left side! Still, pretty great weapon!  
  
Now what about that baby? It was... Beautiful. The little tag said that it was a Hydra Splatling. Ink canister was sidemounted, which was fairly odd! That IMP was really weird as well, uninflated and at rest. She guessed that the non-solid piping meant it could handle stress more easily. AMP was attached right to the handle, so it would pump out ink at high speed... Okay. Now she had to address the elephant in the room. What the heck was up with those barrels? Barrel-type, but there were only three of them! If she spun the mechanism, they spun fairly smoothly, which likely helped, but they weren't even braced against each other! It didn't really look like it was worth replacing the standard Splatling for, really...  
  
"Oh, I don't know," an odd voice said. Eight looked down and looked at a person standing next to her. They were really odd! A weird bobble-y head, two massive orange scopes attached to their eyes, and an apron covered in patches and scuffs. On the top of that weird head thing, there was some scribblings in a language that Eight didn't know. Which. Was irritating, actually. And on one of the belts of their apron was a large black and yellow patch that said 'Hello! My name is SHELDON!' in bright letters. "It has its advantages. You mumble when you talk, by the way."  
  
Oh. "Uh. I'm... I'm sorry! I was, it just! I just looked at it and it was so pretty, and!"  
  
The little person laughed. It was so weird! They barely came up to her waist! "Oh, don't worry! I won't hold it against you! Always nice to meet another fan of the fine arts! My name is Sheldon - you probably guessed that from my nametag!" He walked over to Three, who was still lying on the floor from where Eight had dropped her earlier. "Three."  
  
"Sheldon," Three replied with a large amount of respect.  
  
A moment passed. Sheldon then proceeded to kick Three out of the general path of the entrance before turning back to Eight. "Right! That Hydra Splatling you were looking at? The valve allows you to adjust the force of the Splatling on the fly! Though you can only adjust it so much within Squidforce regulations..." Oooh! She saw that now! If that was a possible use, then you could adjust yourself to various situations! That'd definitely make up for any other shortcomings! Sheldon sighed and muttered for a moment on the shortsightedness of fools. "Anyway! Is that truly the only weapon in your possession? You'll need more than that to be taken seriously around here! You look high enough level to handle some of my beautiful children."  
  
"Wait, what? How do you know that I'm high enough level to use a weapon?" Eight asked. She hadn't shown him her license! Heck, _she_ hadn't checked it for the last two fights! Eight didn't know what level she was! "How do you know?!"  
  
"Sheldon knows all," Three mumbled.  
  
Sheldon nodded. "I do, that's true. I've been in this business since I was younger than you. You learn to find all the little details matching up after a while. Breathlessness from excitement rather than exhaustion, light bruising on the wrists since you're not used to wielding a Splattershot Jr's blocky design yet... It all adds up. That said, you've got almost no scars for somebody who worked in the military." UH. UH. UH. UH OH. "Don't fret too much. I'd assume that Three is vouching for you?"  
  
"MC Cuttlefish is, actually..." Sheldon paused and looked her directly in the eye. Then at Three. Back at Eight. Up into the air.  
  
Sheldon closed his eyes and breathed out. "Of course he's calling himself that now... ANYWAY. I can tell from your general posture, you're a Shooter specialist? Emphasis on close quarters combat?" Eight nodded slowly. No point in lying at this point. "Hmm. I see. I'd guess Level 6, at a glance." Eight checked her license and felt her mind go blank. Clear as day, the license said she was Level 6. How did he know?! Did he hack her somehow?! Or... Was he just that good at reading somebody? That he could tell at a glance? It was really terrifying, if she was honest!  
  
"Y-Yeah... What do you have?"  
  
Sheldon smiled. "Ah, asking, are you? Well, I'll presume you want a Shooter better than the little toy you've got there?" Eight nodded. She wasn't even a big fan of this one, if she was being honest. Ink Armour? For real? No way. She was going to trade this out the first chance she got! "Well, if you want another Shooter, then we've not got many options for your current level! Even less for somebody just starting to learn how to play Splat Battles! So, I'll suggest to you... the basic Splattershot! A classic weapon revamped for the modern era!"  
  
Oooh... Okay. Observe. First thing she noticed, nozzle was decent! Looked like a Jet-nozzle with a fairly weak Recycler attached to it! Handle was attached right onto the body, which was pretty weird! Grip was simple, almost as simple as an Octoshot... Now, the ink canister was confusing her pretty badly. It seemed to just kind of slot in! There wasn't anything keeping it in one piece... Speaking of, there was a bright pink thing on the back of the canister, a small cap. Maybe another comfort weight? Other than that, it seemed pretty good, actually! "Uh huh... How does the canister stay attached? I can't make out the exact mechanism for it..."  
  
Sheldon put his hand on the canister and, instead of unscrewing the canister out, simply pushed it! The canister suddenly moved with a sudden POP and slid out of the body in a clean movement. Ah... Okay... There were two little plug things on the bottom of the ink canister! One next to the pink part connected to the nozzle, the other next to the handle! They were kept in... Just by air pressure? Wow... That was actually really smart! So it preserved efficiency without compromising integrity... Nice. "The Splattershot is an incredibly versatile weapon! No bells or whistles here for you, just a standard Shooter! About as standard as you can get!"  
  
Eight nodded as she held the Shooter in her hands. Fairly light, fairly easy to carry... "How interesting... What is it made of? I've never seen anything like this material before..."  
  
"Ninety percent of Inktech weaponry is manufactured from Tunaluminium," Three noted calmly. She was missing a lot of her annoyed tone from earlier.  
  
"Right! The IMP, APM and general body of any weapon you care to mention are constructed from Tunaluminium. Nozzles are constructed from recycled plastics and ink canisters are made from a specific alloy of Tunaluminium and hardened glass!" Sheldon explained quickly. Eight nodded in rapt attention. "Tunaluminium is a rather _odd_ material, you see! Much like Sardinium, it bonds quite easily to nearly any other material you could care to name! It's thought that Tunaluminium is actually a variant of Sardinium that originated in other environments, but there's not much proof to that. The only downside is that Tunaluminium is _much_ more brittle and weak than Sardinium - any part made from it generally needs to be replaced once every three years or so."  
  
Ahhh, so that was why most of these weapons looked flimsier than any Octarian weapon! They were actually just worse than what she was used to! _Fascinating!_ "I see... So this Splattershot is fairly useful, then. What are the upsides from my Splattershot Jr?"  
  
"It's just all around better!" Sheldon proclaimed, seeming fairly pleased with her question. "It fires a bit further, deals seven more points of damage, fires an extra bullet per second, and is just as light!"  
  
"About the only weakness is that it uses more ink," Three grumbled as she got up and walked over.  
  
Sheldon nodded. "True, but I've actually noted that it uses _so_ little as to make no difference. It's really a quite useful upgrade!" She wanted to get it! Right now! But... No! Wait! He'd left out something incredibly important right now! If he was tricking her... "Ah. I can guess from the look on your face you want to know what the Subs and Specials are?" Eight nodded seriously. No more Ink Armour. Never, ever again. She'd never use it again in her life.  
  
 _Ever_.  
  
"I really need to know so I can stop using Ink Armour."  
  
Sheldon nodded, like it wasn't the first time he'd ever really heard that. "The Subs are Burst Bombs, which are fantastic for attack and defense! Not to mention, they're a good test of how efficient your Ink Tank is being with distributing ink!" Wait. If an Ink Tank could be less efficient... Then how efficient could it potentially be? Eight needed to know this at once. "And as for the Special, it's Splashdown! Perfectly suited for any Shooter to take out multiple foes at once! Just be careful, it makes you a prime target for anybody aiming at you!"  
  
Yeah... Eight knew that. Knew that... Really well.  
  
 _Too well._  
  
"Yeah... I know that." Eight let out a shaky breath as she pushed aside the idea of fighting Three again. That had been nightmarish, and she chose not to really think about it too much. "Can I buy this Splattershot right now?"  
  
Sheldon gave a light smile. Almost _immediately_ , Three's entire body tensed up. "Of course you can! But are you sure that you ONLY want this Splattershot?" He waved at the rest of the shop, the rest of this utter paradise in physical form. "We have other things besides weaponry here at Ammo Knights! Don't you want to inspect our other wares?"  
  
Three growled. "Sheldon, don't you _fucking_ dare."  
  
"For example!" Sheldon proclaimed as he pulled up a toolbox. Ooh, easy to carry, triple-layered foldout, clips to secure everything so nothing would tumble? And it was in a classy shade of pink and green! Eight loved it! "For the beginner who likes to maintain their weaponry, try the Goby Toolkit! It has all the tools you need to keep any weapon in tiptop shape! AND since this is your first time visiting the store, you get a discount! This toolkit could be yours for the cheap, cheap price of 3000 Shells!" Oooh! Eight checked her license and checked the money count. She'd done several matches so far, and she had around 8000 of those!  
  
"Sheldon, I'm serious!"  
  
"That looks really cool," Eight whispered. "And it's everything?"  
  
Sheldon made an odd gesture with his head. "Well, almost. There are a few tools that are more for the experienced modifier. But! I can hear your disapproval!"  
  
"MY DISAPPROVAL WILL BREAK YOUR GODDAMN WINDOWS."  
  
"Three, be quiet!" Eight said, grabbing Three by the neck and placing a hand over her mouth. Three made some attempts to scream, but who cared? Weapons were there! "And yes, I'm not happy."  
  
Sheldon nodded sadly. "I am sorry to hear that, I really am. Here, let me make it up to you." He walked over to the rack of Ink Tanks and held one up. "We have on offer this month several exclusive Ink Tanks! You'll never be able to buy them anywhere else! Specially made from a hermit who lives out in Calamari County!" Oh, wow! So these were specially made Ink Tanks just for people who went Splat Battling? Some of them were shaped oddly, like one that was more square-ish and had a rounded cap on the top. Another one was larger, and was more like an average backpack than an Ink Tank! Oh, wait! That one!  
  
It was covered in lots of little cogs and wires, bits of machinery and steel. Eight loved it immediately. "Can I get this one?" she asked quickly.  
  
"You can indeed. In fact, if you get this, you can get one part of the 14-part Maintaining And Customizing series!" Ooooh! Oh, but if she only got ONE part for free, she'd need to buy the others, wouldn't she? She couldn't live with herself if she only got ONE part! That'd be the most infuriating thing! She needed every part of it! Aw, but that'd cost like... 17800 Monies. Eight didn't have that kind of money. So... She couldn't get anything... That was upsetting... Oh well.  
  
Three groaned and held out her license to Sheldon. "Are you offering to pay for your friend, Three?"  
  
"... Yeah. Fine. Whatevs."  
  
Three was offering to... Pay for her? Really? YES!  
  
"THANK YOU THREE!" Eight squealed as she gave Three as tight a hug as she could manage. Three made several noises before slipping to the floor in a heap. "Okay then... Let's talk."  
  
Sheldon smiled.

  
\---

  
Marina looked up from the pile of boxes. "Do... You care to explain?"  
  
"Sheldon is good at his job," Three grunted as she pushed another box into the trunk of Pearl's car. "Way, way too good."  
  
What? No, Eight got a perfectly good deal! Sheldon hadn't sold her too much, it was fine! She'd only bought three toolsets, six sets of replacement parts, a Splattershot, all 14 parts of the Maintaining and Customizing books, three other Ink Tanks with fancy patterns on them, a SUB-IAL Pattern set, a complete rulebook about Splat Battling she'd devour later, a guide for generating Special Tools, a guide to taking apart any weapon for inspection (Like the Splattershot Jr! It was possible to take that apart!), a variety of specialty cleaning cloths, an especially useful multi-head screwdriver, and roughly 2000 bolts and screws. Because you can never ever have enough of those. It had only cost Three roughly 50000 monies!  
  
Pearl was laughing like a madwoman for some reason. She'd started when Three had walked out of the store carrying a load of boxes, and hadn't stopped since then. Roughly the only thing she'd said in the last ten minutes or so had been something along the lines of 'Deja Vu', which was really confusing? Wasn't that the name of some boring Octarian band from ten years ago or something? How did Pearl know about them? Marina sighed and looked at Pearl in a manner that was some mix of begging and exhaustion. "Pearl, please stop." Pearl did not stop. In fact, she just laughed even louder. "Bluh. Eight, you don't need any of that. Trust me. Please."  
  
What? But what if she needed an extra toolset? "Marina, you're not making _any_ sense. What if I do need some of it? Are you an Octoling, or aren't you?" Any good Octarian knew how to reuse and recycle anything! Heck, Sheldon had even taught her how to take apart the Splattershot Jr! Tiny little plastic bolts that were the same colour and texture of the Splattershot Jr itself, so you'd never be able to spot them without outside help. What was she saying? Oh. Right. R and R. IMPORTANT. "If I need a R-20 Seafloor Cloth, then I have one! If I need bolts and screws? I have them. If I need a replacement Ink Tank? I have three."  
  
Three shrugged as she finished putting everything in the car. "Eh. Just buy what you need when you need it." What the heck was wrong with Three. Eight was strongly considering throwing her off a cliff into a barrel full of... Something gross. Shut up, her imagination wasn't super great right now. "Please stop looking at me like that."  
  
"If I need something immediately, then it's within one or two rooms! If I need to fix something, then I don't have to go buy it! Because I already own it!" Gosh! What a stupid, stupid thing to say! Some people didn't have that luxury! Eight wanted to scream right now. So much. "Don't throw an Ink Shower all over my parade, Three! I need all of that, because what if I can't buy what I need later. What if my _legs_ get cut off? Or I go _blind?_ What happens, Three?"  
  
Three thought about it for a moment. "You die painfully. Possibly either from drowning in the bathtub, bleeding out on the floor, or of starvation. Take your pick." Dark! Also, _correct!_ Eight WOULD DIE. For realsies this time, instead of the nightmare visions of death back in Kamabo. Thus, you needed a decent stockpile of spare parts! If you didn't have them, then nature would take the path of least resistance and break your weapon at the earliest opportunity that it'd be most inconvenient for you. And if you did have all of this stuff, then nature would leave you alone! It'd understand that there would be no point in causing misfortune to a girl who can just immediately fix the problem. "That said, you could just call emergency services."  
  
... What are emergency services? "Um. Three?" Marina said slowly. "We didn't have emergency services in the Domes."  
  
Three made another one of those faces again - the ones that implied she was feeling especially guilty and upset by something Eight had said. Which was bad! Eight didn't want to upset Three! She was nice... Ish. Also, she'd just let Eight stay with her for no reason! It'd be rude to upset her. "... Right. If you're hurt that bad, you call triple-zero, and ask for an ambulance because you're dying. That's important, okay?" Oh. That seemed... Kind of wasteful? There were probably more important people to help with that sort of thing. "Don't. I can. See it. Bubbling up in your fucking brain. No. You get hurt that bad, you call the goddamn ambulance."  
  
Marina nodded seriously. "She is right about that, even if she's wrong about the number. You're not just another number up here, Eight. You're a person, like everybody else." Eight nodded slowly. It was still kind of sinking in. Amidst the rush of just fighting for fun and basking under the warm light of the sun, she was still... Thinking about back then. Names weren't necessary back then. Quick identification made names more useful, but they weren't mandatory. It was just... Something you had. That you shared with your Squad. "You're my friend. Pearl's too. And while I'm not totally sure about her, Three at least cares enough about you to stick around. So if you ever get hurt, we'll be there for you. Okay?" Eight gave another nod as Marina gave her a tight hug. It felt... It all felt... Was it something in her memory? Or... Or was it...  
  
Pearl stood up and patted Eight on the back slightly. The shock of something touching her back again, even the minor sting of what was left of her wound, sent her for a loop. Any memories that might have been pushing forwards sunk back down, and were immediately forgotten. "Yeah, dude! We're here for ya! I had to remind Marina of that all the time when she came up here, and that's still true now!"  
  
"... Thank you."  
  
A moment passed, as Eight pondered upon how lucky she was to have immediately made friends in this new life of hers. Three promptly ruined it by turning to Marina and speaking. "What do you mean I got the number wrong?"  
  
"It's triple-nine, these days. They changed it about a month ago." What? They changed it? But what if somebody tried to call the old one and didn't know it changed? That was really dumb!  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yeah. We mentioned it on Inkopolis News every morning for like a week."  
  
"Fucking hell... I feel like whenever I do fucking anything, like six or eight things just cascade into causing personal problems for me." Three made another face and started grumbling incoherently. Eight swapped out her first Ink Tank for one of the fancy ones that had cogs and gears all over it. It seemed to be the standard one, but with bits glued onto it. Pearl relocked the car, and they made their way back into the Square. "God, I'm gonna have to fucking look up if any other shit changed while I was gone."  
  
Pearl shook her head. "About the only thing was that one of the IWTA buildings burned down."  
  
Three groaned. "God, I'm gonna have to go back to that mess, aren't I?"  
  
"Three, isn't that where you work?" Eight asked. Gosh. Working with weapons! Getting to use new weapons before anybody else in the world! She was super jealous!  
  
Marina blinked. "Wait. Three works at the IWTA? Three. I thought you were being metaphorical on the drive here, but you _actually_ work there?"  
  
"Yeah. Pay is fine, job is fine too, but the fucking people are a nightmare." Three pulled out that little case thing from her bag and flipped it open, revealing an off-white card with a picture of an unmarked and significantly less tired looking Three on it, with several barcodes underneath that. "See? I get a discount on any IWTA sponsored store, and this card serves as a 'No For Fucking Real, She's Eighteen' badge. Too fucking small for most people to take me seriously most days." Eight could see that. Three was just so small and tiny! She only barely came up to Eight's shoulders!  
  
"Well, it's understandable if you act like you're as old as your namesake," Marina said innocently. Three grumbled some more. "That said... If you work at the IWTA, then--"  
  
"I am _legally required_ to inform you that the IWTA is unable to take requests for experimental weaponry," Three said suddenly and firmly.  
  
"Not what I was going to ask, but whatever."  
  
Pearl shook her head in amusement as she pulled out... Oh! Those were those tickets! For that van thing in the Square! "Back onto battling for a second, before we hit the next match, anybody want a snack?" Ooh! Eight did! Eight held up her hand in affirmation. Marina did too, because she had good sense in her brain. "I hate to ask, but Three? You want something?"  
  
"Eight already bought me food yesterday with all the tickets she found. I can't have to repay two seperate people, it'll drive me through the fucking roof. So no. I can deal." ... Three was just trying to act tough. But that was foolish! You should never turn down any form of nutrition! Eight didn't get why she was so hung up on that idea of having to repay Eight, because Eight didn't care about that! She had like, a bajillion tickets left over! Eight silently signalled this to Pearl. Pearl stared blankly. Marina sighed, and signalled to Eight that Pearl didn't know any Octarian signal-code. Bluh! Everybody was useless. Fine, Eight would fix this problem herself.  
  
She looked Three in the eye seriously. Three stared back just as seriously. Staring Contest: The Redux! BEGIN THE GAME! Three was starting off extremely strong with her blatant disregard for other people's opinions and ideas, but nothing could stand before Eight and not be destroyed! Eight fought back with General Nicencess and Joy! Three flinched! Her guard was open! DEPLOY ALL TRUST BEAMS! Boom! A salvo delivered right to the heart! And now for the finishing blow! GO, CUTE EYES! "Three, come on... Please? You can pay me back another day... Pleeeaaase?" A moment passed. Three finally broke eye contact, and Eight knew that she had won.  
  
"... Fine." YES! Victory for Eight!  
  
Pearl nodded, like she'd been expecting this outcome all along. Marina shook her head in amusement. "Alright then. Pearlie, you know what I want. Eight, what do you want?"  
  
"Anything besides that heretical monstrosity," Eight hissed out. No heresy for her, thank you!  
  
"Uhhhhh," Pearl replied.  
  
"Galactic Shwaffle," Three explained tersely. "Get me any Seanwich. I don't care."  
  
Pearl nodded. "A'ight then! Eight, come on! Let's grab some grub! Marina, you mind grabbing a table? Three, go with her." Both Three and Marina went wide-eyed and looked at each other. "Yeah, you heard me. Go. Talk with each other, whatever." Eight couldn't help but feel like she wasn't picking up on something here. Had she missed something here or there? Three and Marina gave each other a dark look, but nonetheless went to go find a table. Meanwhile, Pearl and Eight went over to the big van thing. Annoyingly, there was a big line there, so they had to wait for a minute or two. Eight had already experienced long lines back at the food court, and she was not a fan.  
  
About two minutes passed, and Eight was decidedly not a fan of this line. There was some jerk in a Bamboo Hat wasting everybody's time, changing their order every ten seconds. Eight was tempted to just walk away, but then she'd be a quitter. Eight didn't quit back in Kamabo. So she wouldn't quit now. That said, Kamabo had never tried to kill her with _soul crushing boredom_ and mundane noise, so maybe this would actually be the death of her. Either way, Eight was dying of enough boredom that she'd probably try to... Do something. Gosh. This whole thing was boring enough that she was even losing her imagination.  
  
"Fucking hell, dude... Why is this taking so long?" Pearl muttered, and Eight definitely agreed with that notion right there. "Seriously, this usually doesn't take this long. I swear." Huh. How long did it usually take, then? Eight wasn't particularly fond of all this... Waiting. Even back when she was part of the military, she was usually given some task while waiting for anything to happen. If an operation was to occur, then you did some kind of busywork before it happened. Even if that was just soothing your fellow soldier's worries. Eight used to have to do that a lot, since her sis.... Sist... Sister? Who... She had a sister once?  
  
Who was it... Was it... Argh, on the tip of her tongue, it really was! Squadmate. Right, she remembered that bit... It was. She was! Come on, Eight! You've been remembering stuff all day, you can remember this one little thing, right? It was right there! Come on! COME ON!  
  
 _ ~~uizzqai bpicu.~~ _ Oh yeah! Veemo! Who's the coolest? Who deals with their crippling amnesia the best? You better believe that it was Eight! Oh yeah! Wait. No! Memories hurt! Aaaargh, darn it! THIS SUCKED! Eight was registering her complaint right now, this totally sucked!  
  
 ~~ _uizzqai bpicu, abzwvo wn pmizb ivl abzwvo wn jwlg. pmz uqopb bczvml i aquxtm zwttmz qvbw i eidm wn lmibp. aqvkm bpmg ipl jmmv kpqtlzmv, uizzqai pil zmuiqvml bpm kpmmznct ivl qvvwkmvb oqzt mqopb svme ivl twdml. apm svme pwe bw eqmtl itt emixwva, jcb kpwam bpm zwttmz nwz i aquxtm zmiawv. "qb'a i jczlmv," apm ktiquml. "ivg wbpmz emixwv ewctl ittwe um bw lqabivkm ugamtn. q eivb bw svwe epib q'dm lwvm. aw bpib q vmdmz mdmz twam ug eig."_~~  
  
 ~~ _mqopb twdml uizzqai. apm eia i apizx kwvbziab bw bpm zmab wn bpm cvqb, zizmtg xzwnmaaqwvit wz mnnqkqmvb. vmdmzbpmtmaa, apm iteiga smxb cx bpib acvvg jmicbqnct auqtm ivl tqnbml bpmqz pmizba. cvbqt bpmg owb bpm wzlmz. bpzmm uwvbpa inbmz bpib qvsivbibqwv, bpm kixbiqv pil owvm iewt. aycil 25 pil jmmv amvb bw nqvl pmz. epmv bpmg lql, apm eiavb bpm kixbiqv ivguwzm. rcab i ewuiv. rcab i zmjmt. qb eia bww miag bw sqtt pmz. apm pil aiql... bpib apm eia aw xzwcl wn itt wn bpmu. mqopb lqlv'b svwe epg. apm eiav'b bpmqz kixbiqv._~~  
  
 ~~ _uizzqai pil abwxxml ticopqvo bpib lig. abwxxml auqtqvo. abwxxml ivg muwbqwv xmzqwl._~~  
  
 ~~ _"muwbqwva izm i eiabm."_~~  
 ~~ _"abwx bpib. em vmml bw ewzs."_~~  
 ~~ _"tmidm. q lwv'b eivb kwuxivg."_~~  
  
 ~~ _kixbiqv ozquu eia owvm. kibpmzqvm eia quxzqawvml. uizkca eia lmil. ivl qb eia rcab uizzqai ivl mqopb._~~  
  
 ~~ _"uizuiz? q... q lwv'b eivb bw lw bpqa ivguwzm."_~~  
  
 ~~ _"qb'a wcz lcbg. qn gwc jmkwum i zmjmt..." uizzqai lqlv'b bczv. aquxtg xqksml cx pmz wkbwzwttmz. "q'tt sqtt gwc bww."_~~  
  
 ~~ _mqopb vmdmz twwsml jiks._~~  
  
"Hey! You alright?!" Pearl asked worriedly.  
  
Eight shook herself out of the memory. Urgh. Less painful that time. Still felt like she'd been hit by an Ink Mine or two. At least this time, it didn't look like she'd been out for too long. Maybe just thirty seconds or so. What was that? It'd been longer than the other things she'd remembered so far... And somebody had spoken? It was like... Bluh. Everything was falling away. She couldn't figure out what any of it meant! That was the infuriating part! Was she going to have to learn Octarian cipher all over again? She seriously hoped not. "Uh... Yeah. Fine. I, just remembered a bit."  
  
"Woah, for real?! That's awesome!" It kind of was and it kind of wasn't.  
  
Eight nodded worriedly. "Yeah... Please, um. Don't tell anybody? I don't want to make anybody seriously worry, you know?" Lying! It was a responsible thing to do if you wanted to keep your friends from worrying too much over you! Also, having people worry about her was stressful! Because if they had a legitimate reason to be worried? Then something was wrong with her! So if nothing was wrong with her, nothing was ever going to be wrong ever.  
  
... Yeah, this was probably going to fall apart at some point, but it wasn't going to be today!  
  
Pearl gave Eight a look that indicated Pearl thought that was a load of nonsense, with significantly more swearing than Eight would use. It was also a look that suggested that everyone was entitled to their own little secrets, and Pearl would keep them. "... No problem. Dunno why, but... Safe with me." Whew! Pearl was a cool person. Not as cool as Eight, but still cool. Finally, that Bamboo Hat guy finished changing his mind and left the line... Without ordering anything. Eight was going to kill that person. She could barely imagine how frustrated everybody else was. "Geeze... I hope that those two aren't gonna kill each other while we're busy over here."  
  
"You think they would?" Eight asked worriedly. She liked Marina and Three! She didn't want them to fight! She knew that they weren't the biggest fans of each other, but...  
  
Pearl just shrugged. "Probably not, but... I'unno. Those two just have this weird tension around them. Last time I ever saw Marina this weird and quiet was a year and a half ago, after we moved in together. But the moment she heard about Three..." She shoved her hands into her large pockets and slumped slightly. "I dunno. Something about Three brings out the worst in her." Huh. So... Did Marina know Three? From two years ago? Or was it just chance, or... Oh, wait. Obviously. Marina hated Three because... ... ... ... That's all. Wait. What? Did she just... That wasn't a memory. It wasn't even a thought. Was that... Was that a blank space where a memory used to be?! Come on! COME ON! This was ridiculous!  
  
Bluuuuuh!  
  
At least they were close to the end of the line, now. "... So what do we do?"  
  
"No idea, dude. But all things considered, I'm totally willing to kick Three to the curb." As sad as it sounded, Eight could totally understand that. Neither Pearl or Marina seemed to like Three much... And Eight knew them better than she knew Three. She really wanted everyone to just get along, but if she was forced to choose... "Even though I know you're fond of her." Pearl cackled as she elbowed Eight. And. Shut up! So what if she liked being around Three? She wasn't even sure of why. Three just seemed to be really nice, whenever Marina... Wasn't... around...  
  
Oh.  
  
Okay, that made sense. Even if she didn't seem to understand the cause... But still! Three was nice! She let Eight stay with her, and made her food, and even let Eight borrow her clothes! She just didn't understand why they all couldn't get along. She thought she'd escaped all the pointless yelling after she left the Underground, you know? "I mean... I can get that... Mmrgh. Can we just... Focus on getting food for now?"  
  
"Eh. Sure thing, Eight. Reena told me you tried a Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffle yesterday, right?" Eight nodded cautiously. That thing had been evil. Deliciously sweet... But _evil_. Oh, Eight had naively believed that it was innocent of _sin_. That it was possessed a soul, a sweetness, something inside that wretched concoction worth half a darn. But no. There was no soul. There was no guilt. No shame. It existed only to punish those who wished to enjoy food, a trap to ensnare the trusting and naive. The Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffle was a punishment of hubris and despair. "Sweet, then we can get you to try some other shit. How do you feel about a Galactic Seanwich?"  
  
Oh, that was the one Three had yesterday! And they were close to the front of the line! "Ooh, yeah! I'd like that one!" Yessss...  
  
"Gotcha! So that's three Galactic Seanwiches, and one Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffle. Awesome!" And then, within moments of Pearl reciting what she was going to order, it was done. Over. They were at the fabled land, the land of promise and wonder... The front of the line. Pearl gave Sean her order, and werughrh, Sean was weird to look at now that she knew that wasn't just skin. Hard to imagine some creatures just had that weird carapace thingy on them. Like... Like Iso Padre. She missed him. He had been nice. And quiet.  
  
Eight missed the quiet. Even if she did prefer the noisy mess of the Surface to the silent terror below, she really wanted to see Iso Padre again.  
  
They grabbed all the delicious smelling food... And the Shwaffle, and began to hunt down the table that Three and Marina had staked out. After almost a whole minute of looking, they found the pair of them sitting at a table almost hidden away next to the lobby. Marina and Three were sat opposite each other, and both of them looked exhausted. Three had her head down on the table and wasn't moving, while Marina was resting her head in one hand.  
  
"Hey!" Eight called. Immediately, both of them turned their heads to look at Eight. Well. She said that. It was more like their heads existed as seperate entities, and sort of swiveled to face Eight. It was extremely creepy! Eight didn't care for it! She never wanted to see it again! "A-Are you two having a nice talk? Are you, uh... G-Getting along?" Wow. She sounded corny and cheesy even to herself. It was plain to see that neither of them were getting along, and neither of them were having a nice talk. They kind of just exuded this natural aura of 'You Complete Fool, What Part Of This Looks Nice'.  
  
Marina made an exhausted noise that sounded like an Octohurler throwing up bundles of Rolonium. "We're talking. We're getting."  
  
"I have had _actual wounds_ that were less shitty than this conversation," Three replied in a muffled sort of way. It made sense, her mouth was half against the table.  
  
"Wounds you deserved," Marina replied lightly. Too lightly for Eight to imagine she was anything but furious right now.  
  
"Wounds I got from thieves," Three said quietly. And... Not wrong. Eight had stolen some of those Zapfish. One or two right in plain sight.  
  
Both of them tightened their grip on their respective weapons. Pearl and Eight handed out the food and attempted to shift the conversation. "So! Food, huh?" Pearl was not great at shifting the conversation. If anything, Pearl was awful at shifting the conversation. The conversation was unshifted. Anti-shifted. It got even more awkward than it had been before. "I love food. It's the best. Why wouldn't it be? It's food." Pearl, please stop. You're really, really bad at this.  
  
Their meal passed in relative silence, with a few more attempts at conversation by Pearl. It wasn't until a sudden shout of "THREE!" that anything changed. For one, Eight got to see Three's entire soul just _explode_ into an aura of sheer terror, which was pretty cool and also frightening? Eight had never seen anybody else be super frightened before now. It was good to know what that looked like. Secondly, the person who shouted that was sprinting towards them at high speed. Eight barely got a chance to register their appearance before they vaulted over the table and tackled Three to the ground. "You fucking asshole! Would it have killed you to respond at all today instead of just ignoring me?!"  
  
Three paused. "I mean."  
  
"Fucking hell... I don't know why I'm friends with you most days."  
  
"Trauma."  
  
"Fair."  
  
Pearl cleared her throat. "So... You gonna introduce yourself, or..."   
  
Hmmm. Hmmmm. Eight wasn't sure. Both of them seemed pretty content to just lie on the ground uselessly. It sort of suited them. After a moment and some very well synchronized grumbling, they both decided to stand up. The person who had tackled Three was an older woman. She was wearing brown pants, a White Shirt, some fancy shoes, and a pair of really nice looking glasses. Her eyes were a really dark shade of grey, and her purple tentacles were tied up in a neat little bun. She also happened to look just plain exhausted and overall tired. Was she maybe part of Three's family? "Yeah, sorry. My name's Zoey Mera. I've been trying to get in contact with Three all day, and every single time she just sent me back a text saying she was 'Busy'. You don't _look_ busy."  
  
Three's face shifted. Eight didn't like it, she looked supremely uncomfortable right now. It was actually kind of unsettling to see Three being anything other than a little ball of grumpiness and battle prowess. She was actually looking away from Zoey as she spoke, almost no confrontation in her voice. "I made a promise," Three mumbled, almost too quietly to be heard. This was really weird. "And my life is none of your damn business."  
  
Zoey just kind of sighed dramatically. "Okay. I get it. I do want to know, but I'm not going to demand answers from you. Y'know, Mable and Granny are here too! You want to go a few matches?" Three shook her head silently. Zoey looked at the table and narrowed her eyes in thought. "Oh, I see how it is. You don't want to admit to me... The _truth_." The... What? Three gave a confused look.  
  
"The... Truth?"  
  
"The actual reason you don't want to tell me anything!" Zoey proclaimed dramatically. It was possibly the worst fake acting of all time. Those weren't even real tears. Eight found herself professionally offended by these fake tears. She could do way better. Not that she would, because faking how to cry was a bad thing, but it'd been in basic training. "I can tell right away... You're replacing us with this newer and hipper crowd!" What?! She thought EIGHT was hip?! HECK NO. Hipsters were _poison_. Hipsters were _worse_ than poison. That was the one thing that she'd been taught about culture that she still believed.  
  
Heck, even rebels and resistance members were better than hipsters. Not actually, because. Y'know. _Treason_. But at least they committed to liking something, even if it was liable to get them killed. Hipsters just flitted from thing to thing when they got bored of it, and even then, they dropped it if somebody else happened to like it. On the whole, entirely boring and useless members of society. "What the actual fuck are you talking about," Three replied in shock. Which was right! This woman was clearly not well! "What the fuck does that mean?!"  
  
"We're being replaced?!" Oh. Great. Were we doing this now? Eight turned, and was promptly met with what was possibly the incarnation of all bad fashion choices. It was like. Anti-Fashion. Ignoring her sharply cut lime green tentacles wrapped in about sixteen different bows, her dress was... Wow. Eight had lived on the Surface maybe a day? And even she knew it was bad. It was entirely black, and was big and flowy at every single angle. Roughly speaking, it was covered in one third lace frills, one third glitter, and one third sequins. There was also a leather corset, black stockings covered in pictures of crescent moons, big clunky platform boots covered in straps and silver studs, a pair of horns on her head and some shiny stickers just under her bright pink eyes. She was also roughly about as muscular and toned as the average Octarian, which was very... Interesting. "Such a tragic fate is in store for us!"  
  
"I hate all of you, you fucking assholes." She looked at Eight with an expression that could only be described as carefully maintained irritation. "These are my shitty coworkers. The tall nosy one is Zoey, the short goth one is Mable. They're both assholes."  
  
The now introduced Mable nodded tearfully. "Oh, I see it now! Short sexy one, tall brainy one, mysterious and buff one! It all makes sense!"  
  
Pearl frowned. "Marina isn't short."  
  
"Awww, Pearlie!"  
  
"FUCK YOU."  
  
Eight was _rapidly_ losing track of what was going on.  
  
Zoey sighed. "I suppose I should have expected it at some point."  
  
"I'm not replacing you!" Three yelled. She was carefully ignored. "I'M NOT REPLACING YOU!"  
  
"Oh, I'm not so sure! It sounds like you're replacing us to these old ears." Eight sighed and proceeded to look behind her for what was obviously the third member of the Weird People That Three Knows team. She promptly decided to turn back around and desperately try to forget everything about this person. What was one of them doing on any team with Three?! Better yet, why didn't Three MENTION this earlier?! "Young lady, you need to be outside more, I've not seen tentacles that pale in years..." Oh, this was bad. How did Three not overreact to this?!  
  
Tall. More muscle than a Steelhead Salmonid. Which was appropriate, considering her tentacles were Salmonid green and were tied up into a ponytail. She'd been wearing a thick red and black plaid hoodie, a pair of sporty looking shorts, some actually decent looking Hunting Boots, and a pair of jet black glasses that concealed her eyes completely. She was covered in more scars than Three, anywhere you cared to look, there were at least twelve. About the only real indication of being normal and not maybe a robot were the beginnings of light wrinkles on her cheeks. "Granny, leave Eight alone!" This resulted in a wave of low Ooohs from all of Three's really weird friends. "No. NO. Fuck you. You can't DO this to me!"  
  
"Honey, after the shit you pulled yesterday?" Mable said sneakily. "We are going to _ruin_ you. I mean look at it from our perspective, it sure looks like you're replacing us."  
  
"I'M NOT GOING TO REPLACE YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE MY FRIENDS!" Three screamed. Almost immediately, she slammed her hands right over her mouth in shock. Why Three thought that was such a radical statement to give would forever be a mystery to all sealife-kind. Honestly, Eight thought she just wanted to look cool and rad in the face of her friends. Three inhaled deeply and began screaming angrily. Marina inhaled deeply and began cackling merrily at Three's misfortune.  
  
The tall woman laughed. "It's nice to hear that you love us, Three."  
  
Three released a dark sigh. "Fine. FINE. If we're doing it this way... So. This is my shithead team. They're all _assholes_ , I hate them all, I'd trade them all in for a better team if I knew they weren't all _cockroaches_ and wound up back where they started, and I hate that they're all close friends of mine." This elicited a two minute long high-five session, during which Three dramatically sighed roughly every ten seconds, and the tall woman cackled like... Like Three had, two years ago. Which was nightmare fuel not to be thought about, really. "Zoey is our resident Asshole Weapon specialist. Stuff like Blasters, Brellas, that stuff. Mable is an Advanced Weapon specialist, Bows, Cannons, Inksprayers, whatever. And the TALL FUCKING ASSHOLE OCTARIAN is Granny Burnes. She is a _pox_ on this world, and **_all we hold dear_**."  
  
Y'know, it wasn't often that Eight felt her blood rush in terror. Why was Three just shouting it right out there to the world?! Mable sighed loudly. "Excuse Three, she's a rabid conspiracy theorist. She thinks that Octarians are still even a thing, even though they would have died out like eighty years ago." Oh. Oh, okay. It was. Whew. Okay. So Three was just considered a crazy person. Less terrifying and dangerous for her immediate future overall. "She just wants Granny to drop more of her illusive backstory. Granny is even more mysterious and secretive than Three, if you can believe that."  
  
The newly-named Granny nodded seriously, drawing attention to the fact that she had no Inkling mask as she pushed down her glasses and scratched a spot between her yellow eyes. "Oh, don't mind Three and her wild theories! She likes to accuse me of lots of things, when she thinks of them." Granny proceeded to scratch at her head, drawing more attention to the multiple suckers adorning the outside of her tentacles, and then at the corner of her eyes that had the distinctive Octarian rings around them. "Octarians haven't existed for years! That's a Granny Burnes fact right there! And for free, no less!"  
  
"I hate her _so much_ ," Three confessed sadly. "I hate her. _So. Fucking. Much._ "  
  
Zoey cleared her throat loudly and regained everybody's attention. Smart lady, that Zoey. "Seeing as how the three of you have Three's attention at the moment, I'd like to ask a request of you."  
  
Eight groaned. "You want to fight us, don't you?" It was getting to be a bit boring by now. At least three other teams had challenged them personally by now, and none of them had been very much fun to deal with. At the very least, if they accepted, Eight would get to use her new fancy Splattershot! So... Figuring out how a weapon worked won out over any resignation from getting challenged to another really tedious fight. One of them probably had like. A. Blaster Roller. Or a. Charger Brella. Or some other ridiculous weapon that made no sense but worked impossibly well. The Surface was really good at making those.  
  
Granny grinned. And yeah, that wasn't a friendly smile. "Heh. You've got some spark in you, my dear!" Did she? Too bad. Eight was gonna extinguish that right now if it meant you stopped looking at her you creepy old woman who was possibly a zombie. "It's true! It's something of an IWTA tradition. Go battling once a week with your team for bonding! Granted, Three is a little brat, but we make do with what we've got. And it'd be interesting to fight a group of brats like yourselves! Whehehehe!" Wait. No. Hold on.  
  
No, this wouldn't work. "Okay, we accept, but hold on a moment!" Eight said. She restrained the urge to hide in her big sweater as everybody looked at her, because she only knew like three of these people. But putting that aside for one good moment... "You only have three people. If Three is on our side, we're one person short for a full Splat Battle, aren't we?" As if speaking a set of arcane words from another world, Zoey, Mable and Granny magically lost every ounce of joy and hope in their bodies.  
  
"We aren't," Zoey sighed sadly. "Gill forced a fourth on us."  
  
"Martin and Gary from Room 23 transferred out," Mable explained quickly. "And Cole's contract is up, so he went to go join Grizzco."  
  
"Which left exactly one person to fit into the hole in our team while you were away," Granny grumbled tiredly.  
  
Three slapped her hands on her face. "Oh, fucking hell. You serious?"  
  
"Deadly."  
  
" _Fuuuuuuuck_."  
  
Pearl shook her head. "Who is this fourth member exactly?"  
  
And like a demon summoned from the blackest pits, a figure emerged from a nearby shadow. He had this bulbous pompadour on his head, an ugly yellow colour that made you wince. A pair of aviators that, while looking decent, were obviously ripoffs of a far better brand. A leather jacket with a fancy belt buckle that looked really greasy and old. A pair of rolled up jeans that were incredibly dirty and patchy. And a pair of big ugly Moto Boots that were really past their prime. It was truly staggering how such a patchwork creature could ever exist in this world. Finally, it opened its mouth and spoke as it shot finger guns. "Eyyyy!"  
  
"You replaced me with BENNY?!" Three shrieked. "BENNY. But he's not an asshole! I can't make fun of him!"  
  
"Gill said that was the point," Zoey explained tiredly.  
  
"GILL CAN GO FUCK OFF!"  
  
Benny spoke again, and lo, it was terrible. "Ey, Three! Y'know, I was thinkin' you was outta town! But now that yer back in town, we can hang again!" Yeah, Eight never wanted to hear this person speak ever again. "But checkin' out your team, you look like you've turned inta a real party pooper!"  
  
" _I will rupture your goddamn ink sac, you outdated madman._ "  
  
Eight finished off her meal and grabbed her new fancy new Ink Tank, the one covered in cogs and wires, and then her new Splattershot. This battle would be tough, that was for sure. These people worked alongside Three. Zoey and Mable seemed dangerous enough, and Benny was... Yeah. But Granny was a whole other kettle of problems right here. Three knew her, which meant that she possibly lived up here... But on the other hand, if she was a spy or something... Yeah, no. Eight wanted nothing to do with this woman beyond this fight. The sooner Eight got to get away from her, the better. At least Marina looked as weirded out as she was. "Are we going yet?"  
  
Team Weirdo nodded in perfect unison. Benny nodded slightly later. "Let's raise some hell!" Mable screamed, pulling an insane contraption from her back and sprinting into the lobby. Zoey chuckled nervously and ran after Mable, Granny simply waved as she jogged backwards and maintained perfect eye contact with Three, and Benny tried to do a cool backwards walking thing but failed completely. It kind of just summed up their entire thing, really. Team Kickass - IE, Eight and her friends - followed quickly. Okay... Quick check. Splattershot was fine. IMPs were working. Nozzle was secured. Geeze, had she really been so nervous she hadn't bothered to do this with the Splattershot Jr?  
  
"... Well," Marina said after a minute. "They're a bunch of characters."  
  
"Imagine working with them. Alright. Quick run down, because we're not going to get a chance before we head in there. Benny is an idiot, but he's fast and doesn't like prolonged encounters. Mable is as weird as she looks, no real strategy, but getting up close with her is suicide." Three lifted her Roller and let it rest on her shoulder. "Zoey's smart and plays it simple. Don't try to get fancy with her, won't work. As for Granny... Expect Eight. But better." Oh, wonderful. In any case, if she was as old as she looked, no way that she wasn't a mainline soldier. Guard-Ops, probably. How would you go about fighting yourself, anyway? That was one of those weird philosophical questions that Eight had basically no patience for, but she'd have to solve it anyway.  
  
The moment they walked into the lobby, Team Weirdo locked eyes with them. Okay... Let's analyze this. Benny had what looked like a normal Blaster. Not much to look at there. Zoey was carrying one of those newfangled Bows that she'd heard about. Unlike the picture Three had shown her, this Bow was more compact and techy. It also had three hooks near the handle, for what, Eight had no idea. Hm. Mable was carrying something similar to that beautiful Inksprayer, but rather than the big brushtip on the end that she'd seen, it was a large aerosol can covered in pink and white shiny stuff. And Granny was carrying something similar to the Stamp she'd been shown, but instead of the wooden stamp, it was two large juice bottles jury-rigged up to the staff. How that worked was beyond her.  
  
"You ready to dance?" Zoey asked.  
  
"We're gonna kick your asses!" Mable laughed.  
  
"Oh really?! We're the number one team around!" Pearl yelled back.  
  
"We're on a win streak! No way you can beat us!" Marina laughed.  
  
Okay. Breath in. Breath out. Let's do this.  
  
Sturgeon Shipyard again this time. Eight wasn't the biggest fan of that place, it was too unfinished and boring and grey. At least the Domes had the decency to put some neon on everything. Everybody walked in and signed in. The Spawnpoint was... Blue and yellow this time! Eight liked yellow, so she decided to pick that side. She really hoped that this wouldn't go too badly in the near future or anything. Alright! Let's do this! Yeah! Get excited! Get ready to beat these fools! Well, not like. Fools in the stupid sense? Like, they were really odd and she didn't know what to make of them. Yeah.  
  
Words were hard.  
  
 _\- Level 06 Eight_  
 _\- Level 48 Pearlescent_  
 _\- Level 45 Marina Hyperfresh_  
 _\- Level 81 Trina Morgue_  
 _\- Level 80 Zoey_  
 _\- Level 74 Blackheart_  
 _\- Level 69 YourGrandma_  
 _\- Level 73 Bennyboy_  
 **BATTLE TIME!**  
  
Eight shifted yellow and hopped through the Spawnpoint and into the cold wastes of Sturgeon Shipyard. Bluh. So cold! But whatever! Eight could deal with it! She could do this! SHE COULD DO THIS!  
  
THE TURF WAR COMMENCED!  
  
Once again, everybody darted right out of Spawn and left Eight all alone to clean up everything. She was starting to think that this was something of a trend. Of course. Right. Fine. Leave everything to the newbie, because heaven forbid that _anybody_ do _actual work_. Eight decided to try out her new fancy Splattershot in comparison to the Splattershot Jr. So. Quick check. All bolts secured, canister ready, nozzle on, all set. Right. Eight pushed herself against the wall of the Spawnpoint and slowly moved from left to right to judge the distance. Decent. Fire rate? Better. Weight was fine, everything was good to go!  
  
In the distance, Eight could already see things going down. In the center of the stage, Three was having some kind of ultimate climactic showdown nonsense with Granny. Lots of yelling and screaming. Eight didn't even think that Granny was a name or anything. Maybe it was an alias or something. Not that Eight cared much for the names or titles or aliases of old women. And then, near the ramp at the side, Marina was fighting off Benny - much less screaming, but definitely in Marina's favour. Good. She could ignore that for now. And Pearl, she couldn't see, but she could pretty obviously hear the loud shrieking and yelling coming from just beyond center.  
  
Okay, Subs and Specials were Burst Bomb and Splashdown. Alright. Time to actually do some cool stuff. Now that she wasn't held down, weighed down by the unknowable weight of Ink Armour, Eight was free to move and fight as she pleased. An emergency attack option was always nice. Right! Time to get going! So what to do, what to do... Marina and Three had their fights on lock, and Pearl was at least still alive, which left either Zoey or Mable running around. Time to go sort that nonsense out. Eight hopped down and calmly finished inking the turf around their Spawn, eyes focused towards the distance. Okay, time to-- MOVE. Eight bounced to the side as three sharp streams of ink landed right next to her. That had been... Okay, so Zoey was the free one. Time to move!  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Eight noticed Marina being splatted by another one of those streams. Great. She had to deal with Benny. Fine. Three had mentioned he didn't like prolonged fights. Eight didn't like them much either. Blasters. Feh. Whatever. Eight rushed forwards and fired. Ooh, heck yeah, she was really enjoying this! Splattershot, you were Eight's new love! And then Benny turned. And Eight suddenly remembered that oh wait, these people worked with _Three_. And Three was an _actual threat_. Benny tossed his Blaster - marked with flames for some reason - into the air. He didn't even move as Eight fired at him.  
  
Wait. He'd taken a step back. And another. And another... Oh, are you serious? He wasn't afraid, he just _knew the maximum range_ of a Splattershot and was staying outside of it?! Okay. Eight was ready for this. She moved in for the kill, generating a Burst Bomb in one hand and firing the Splattershot in the other. "Aw, you doin' this fer me? I'm real touched, doll. Been a while since some quick cat noticed that." Wait, he knew that Eight knew he was out of range?! Okay, no! Throwing the Burst Bomb! Gosh, Eight loved Burst Bombs. They were so good. She'd marry a Burst Bomb, she loved those things. Mostly because their actual strengths weren't exploding on contact. "But ain't nobody gonna get the better of Benny Jets!" The Blaster fell, landing perfectly back into his hand. But he'd caught it wrong! Instead of gripping it so his hand was on the back of the handle, his hand was on the inside.  
  
At least, that's what Eight had thought. He shifted, just slightly, and the Burst Bomb flew forwards and detonated against the side of the Blaster. But Benny didn't have a single drop of ink on him. So. First of all. Eight was really starting to hate how out of the loop she was with modern tactics, this was getting kind of ridiculous. And secondly, she hadn't thought that a Blaster would be sturdy enough to use as a makeshift shield! Blocking a bomb with your weapon was kind of the thing you only did with a Roller, or if you were really desperate, a Brush. You needed the general size and mass of the things to disperse the shock of the bomb going off. "How the heck did you do that?!"  
  
"What, you never hearda Bomb Pushin' before?" Benny asked, right before he spun the Blaster in his hand the right way around and opened fire. He was really pushing his ground here! At least it didn't seem any stronger or faster than your standard Octoblaster, so she'd have some background knowledge here. Not to mention, she'd seen one in Ammo Knights on the shelf! The tag had said the Special for it was Splashdown, so keeping her distance here was critical. Move in. Benny was actually a fairly dangerous person to fight, not slow and cautious or violent and fast. He was... Methodical. Every shot was fired not where Eight was, but a spot where it'd be easier to get a few decent shots off.  
  
It was weird, he wasn't just firing - he was pushing and pulling the Blaster back and forth for some reason. Eight could barely make sense of it. Unless... He was using the length of his arm to reduce or greaten his full range?! Oh, _come on!_ Eight was not in the mood for this! This was nuts! If he wasn't careful, the recoil would knock the Blaster out of his hands entirely! So how did-- Wait. Was that... Was that a _wrist-strap_ attached to the handle? Eight was starting to hate the Surface _so much_. So much. He literally couldn't drop the thing - at best, it'd make him vulnerable for a single second. Wonderful.  
  
Eight rushed and pushed his firing arm up-- And then sidestepped away as Benny angled the Blaster at the wrist to fire at Eight anyway. Something was off about it, it was firing further than it should have. "This is so dumb." Right. Eight was done with this. Burst Bombs. Burst Bombs everywhere. Ignoring the three shots fired by Zoey, seriously, go away already, Eight focused. Every type of Bomb had it's own little activation mechanism. And Eight intended to make very good use of that. "Let's see you deal with this."  
  
Splat Bombs activated via a button. Suction Bombs activated when they attached to something. Autobombs activated when their legs were pushed down. Curling Bombs had a motion sensor. But Burst Bombs... Oh, Burst Bombs were special. Most people disregarded them for their weaker output. But that was because the activation mechanism for Burst Bombs were different.  
  
Simply put, they activated by popping like an ordinary balloon. However, since they only popped when great amounts of force were placed on them, you could easily place one down to use as a makeshift Ink Mine. Place it down, shoot it later, watch it explode. Veemo. Eight generated a second Burst Bomb and rolled it across the ground before reengaging Benny. He had this annoying habit of firing behind Eight, simply to cut off her escape options. Nothing she couldn't negate with some quick inking, but it was still wasting her darn ink! "Well, gotta say! Ain't tangoed with a cool cat like you for a while! But I got other places to be, see?"  
  
And then he pulled a Bubble Blower. Because. That was just Eight's life. So this wasn't a standard Blaster? She was pretty sure that she'd seen the right one! "I thought Blasters had Splashdown..."  
  
"Ordinary Blasters, sure. But this here? Custom Range Blaster."  
  
Eight suddenly remembered one of the very first things Three had ever said to her, about how people kept making every type of Blaster possible. Eight suddenly harbored a great grudge towards the weapons industry. Two bubbles flicked out to either side of her, and then a third pushed her up against a wall. Not gonna work, pal. Eight Superjumped out of there just in time to see Zoey pop all three bubbles at once with that odd Bow of hers from across the map. Whew! That definitely would have splatted her! Now if only she knew who she was Superjumping to, that'd be great. Wait. She was moving backwards. Which meant-- Yes! That was Marina! Awesome!  
  
Wait. Three was walking out of the Spawnpoint too! And Pearl! How fast were they getting splatted out there? Eight needed to go cover some more ground! Which meant that Benny had to go! Time to test something fun. Eight generated another Burst Bomb and gently spun it by the... Tie. Thing. She actually had no idea what to call the bit you held it by. She was just gonna say the end. Eight held the Burst Bomb's end and spun it in a circle as equally as she could. And then she threw. Just as she thought, the momentum carried it further and slammed right into Benny's dumb face. Hah! Benny looked up at her in a manner that was distinctly unpleased. Good. No Blaster could fire this far. Even if he could, the Spawn forcefield would stop any damage! So Eight could just... Generate another Burst Bomb...  
  
AND SMITE HIM WITH IMPUNITY. MWAHAHAHA!  
  
Man. Evil laughter was fun AND refreshing!  
  
Thankfully, Three and Pearl took over for her, so Eight was free to go deal with everything else. Right. How do you deal with Zoey? She was easily the biggest problem. Sniping had the potential to lock down any squad in the right conditions, so all Eight had to do was remove those conditions. So-- Stop! A trio of those sharp ink streams slammed into the ground in front of her. Zoey couldn't actually physically see her right now, so... This would be interesting. Eight hopped back up to the Spawnpoint and ran along to the right, over the shifting bridge and down to the little. Side. Area. Thing. To the right of the stage center. Time to see how good you actually are, Miss Zoey...  
  
Eight generated another Burst Bomb and peered over the edge for Zoey. Not on the center, not patrolling... Ah. There she was. Balanced on one of those grated areas just next to the center. She was half behind one of those crates, aiming the arrows. Ah, that was what the notches were for. Three shots at once, huh? Okay. That works for Eight. So if it launched multiple projectiles, it was either harder to hit targets close up, or they did far less damage at close range. Eight wasn't entirely sure of which option she preferred more, to be honest. No. Wait. She was sure. Whichever option hurt the least. That was always the best option.  
  
Eight moved a single step out of hiding. Zoey's entire body suddenly snapped to face Eight, and fired. Back into cover to dodge those, and then out we go! Messing with people who used charge-based weaponry was just... Hah! Oh, they were so useless. Like, Eight was great with them, but that was really only for the completion status, you know? Can't be _bad_ at something. Anyways, Eight ran up the nearby ramp and dived over the ledge to swim directly up the nearby pillar. She just barely made it, an electric blue streak of ink passing so close by that she felt it tearing a small hole in her new sweater. Geeze, how fast was this thing?! "Hey! I just got this sweater!"  
  
Zoey laughed nervously. "Sorry! Didn't mean to cause any damage!"  
  
Oh. Oh, she didn't mean it? Well, Eight didn't mean to rush forward, grab Zoey by the arm after dodging six or seven bolts and then throw the darn archer down into center stage, _BUT THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED, ISN'T IT?_ Jerk! Eight was going to ruin her! "Too bad!" Burst Bomb generated. Time to try out another trick. Eight ran, Splattershot firing with one hand and Burst Bomb in the other. Not getting away! Zoey began to aim. Time slowed. Focus. This was an old Octarian battle technique. Her Captain had taught her this, and it was one of the more... Personal things she still remembered. The Captain had said it was an old technique.  
  
It involved just... Cutting out parts of the world to focus on what was important. Everything in Eight's sight, in her ears, in her nose, everything that wasn't hyperfocusing on exactly what Zoey was doing right now... It all just fell away, like leaves off a tree. Fingers grasped at the bowstring. Three arrows formed, and were readied. Eight tossed the Burst Bomb directly up - not towards Zoey, not away, just up. Fingers released the string. The arrows launched. The moment Eight saw Zoey's fingers leave that string, she was already in motion. Her hand rocketed up and grasped at the tie of the Burst Bomb, waiting until the exact moment that it's momentum stopped to place it in that split-second zero-g state. If this worked... Eight was going to name this. The moment her hand locked around that tie, Eight pulled.  
  
See, if the ink inside the Burst Bomb was weightless, then the side of the bomb hitting the ink would activate the bomb, and create a large spray of ink to block the arrows with. At least, that was what she was hoping the science worked out as. She was going to look really stupid if it didn't work. Time sped up.  
  
The Burst Bomb detonated like she'd thought in midair. Now she had to hope that the second part worked. She kept pulling, dragging a trail of ink in her arm's wake. The arrows hit... And did NOT go through, _heck yes!_ Oh, Burst Bombs! Truly, the most beautiful and lovely of all bombs! She loved them so much! "I didn't think that'd work, to be honest." WHO'S THE COOLEST? IT'S EIGHT. SING IT. SING HER NAME. SHE WANTS A STATUE! GIVE THIS GIRL A STATUE! Oh, she was gonna ride that cool stuff out for months! Burst Shield! Boom. New name! Give her a damn medal!  
  
Zoey just kind of looked disbelieving. Eight kind of guessed that from her angle, it'd kind of just looked like Eight had destroyed her Burst Bomb, waved her arm, and then the arrows had just vanished for no real reason. It had probably looked like magic or something, which was cool? Eight encouraged wide-spread confusion and doubt. It helped make her enemies more predictable. "... What did you do? No, you're seriously... Like, how, what?!" Eight just lifted her Splattershot and fired. Sadly, the noise seemed to wake Zoey out of the semi-shocked state she was in, but not before Eight landed a good few shots in! "That's an interesting trick, and trust me, I do want to know how it worked, but I won't let you do that again!"  
  
Eight smiled dangerously. "You and what army?"  
  
Zoey carefully wiped her face of any emotion, aimed straight up and fired. "Who needs an army? I'm an Inkling. We don't need armies..." Before she could even notice, one of the arrows speared right through her waist. Darn... If ink healing wasn't a thing... That totally would have taken out her right lung. Zoey was officially playing for keeps. Great. Eight loved it when people suddenly shifted how seriously they were taking any given fight. She loved it. It was _great_. Another trio of shots flew past, one just barely missing Eight's tentacles. "We're better than you." ... Did she know Eight was an Octoling? That'd be really bad, but how? The only reason Three and Pearl knew about Octolings was because they'd been told by one... And Granny definitely did not look like the type to overshare.  
  
Wait. She said better than you. So... Was she referring... Oh, she'd better _not_ be. Eight would officially have zero luck if that was the case. "Might you be referencing something?" Eight snapped off a quick volley and backpedaled, dodging any arrows being fired in the meantime. She really wanted a snack after this. She was starting to get hungry. Yeah, she'd just recently had some food, but food was good. "I don't have a great memory." That was a lie, but Eight wanted to learn some stuff, and it wouldn't help if Zoey thought that Eight already knew.  
  
Zoey snarled and fired up five times. Great, so... Three times five was... Fifteen! Fifteen arrows would be raining down around them in the very near future. Alright, brain! Time to do some overtime! The arrows had a speed of X, the angle was Y, gravity had a factor of Z, times it by three, carry the one... Alright. Now she just had to hope her calculations were right, and that she couldn't get splatted by these things. "What, don't you remember? Two years ago, some of your friends decided to steal a Zapfish from Blackbelly Skatepark!" ... Oh. Oh, come on. Are you _serious_. Are you actually freaking serious? Zoey was one of the hostages from Sector 3's disastrous raid on Inkopolis. _Never_ had Eight been so glad to be Sector 2.  
  
That raid had been a serious black mark on Sector 3. They were the only Sector to try taking hostages, and as a consequence, Agent Three had gone all out. She hadn't fought that hard against _Sector 5_ , was how angry she'd been. Honestly, Eight thought that Sector 3 were all idiots. Seriously, hostages. More trouble than they were worth, you should never ever take one. "They aren't my friends. I'm not friends with stupid people, okay?"  
  
"You're friends with _Three_ , aren't you?" Oooh! Zoey became just a little cooler. In the distance, Three could be heard swearing. Eight was starting to think maybe Three was psychic. "But no, really. What's even your deal, anyway? Suckers on the outsides of your tentacles, those weird eyes, the claws, you're definitely not Inklings! But everyone else seems to think you are!" Crud. Crud. Crud! Eight screamed internally for what felt like a few hours. And of course, this was when the arrows started raining down. As a bonus, Zoey started firing a few more into the air. Great.  
  
"Does it matter?" Eight asked nervously.  
  
"Kinda does!" Zoey yelled as Eight decided that sidestepping all these arrows was too much effort and simply decided to take Zoey down with a point-blank barrage. Eight only managed to land two or three bullets in before Zoey dodged, but another two would totally splat her. "I don't want to wake up again and find out that you fuckers tried to steal our power again!"  
  
... Eight wouldn't. She wouldn't. Operation Blackout was bad enough the first time. She wouldn't do it again. She'd stolen multiple Zapfish, and doing that again... No. She didn't want to help ruin any more lives if she could help it. She'd already made her mistakes. "I don't want anything to do with those people anymore. I never want to do that again."  
  
"But would you?!" Zoey accused, readying another volley. And... No. She wouldn't.   
  
She couldn't. "Heck no! I'm not here to do any of that! I just want nice things! There's no rule against that, is there?" This was so stupid! She just wanted to have nice things! Clothes and food and fun! There wasn't a law against that! Eight just wanted to live her life. She'd barely known how to speak a week ago, she was entitled to just be a person, right? Right? "I don't want to hurt anybody! I never wanted to hurt anybody! I just wanted to help people!"  
  
A long moment passed. Zoey activated her Special. Ordinarily, that'd be a problem! Unfortunately for her... It was an Inkjet. If there was any Special Eight was familiar with, it was an Inkjet. You could consider it her... 'Special'ty! Hahaha! No? No laughs? Fine. Fine, that was okay. Eight knew nobody would ever appreciate her sense of humor. Even if it was better than everybody else's sense of humor. Too bad for Zoey that Eight was so familiar with Inkjets. Because she had the surefire counter right here. Eight let her tentacles burst into neon yellow flames and jumped. Zoey reeled back as Eight leaped up to meet her eye to eye. Which wasn't easy, because Zoey was tall, but still an Inkling and therefore short. "What the--"  
  
"So I have a Splashdown ready." Zoey yelled something incoherent. It was kind of this big long incoherent noise void of anything resembling language. It was similar to the word Bluh, but lacking in all of its many and varied intellectual properties. The way she said it was so insulting, too! Like Eight was just some uneducated dullard from somewhere dumb, like Sector 1! Some people actually willingly lived and worked in Sector 1, which was just the most foolish thing Eight had ever heard. At any rate, that Splashdown sent up a big wave of yellow ink! Zoey barely managed to back up before she went splat. Eight smiled to herself. It didn't quite feel right, so she tried to laugh to herself. MWAHAHAHA. Ah, evil laughter. A balm on your soul, truly.  
  
A loud, traumatized gasp rang out. Eight spun around and saw Mable. Ooh, she'd finally get to see that fancy Inksprayer she'd heard so much about! Hurray! What were its Subs? What were its Specials? She really wanted to know that stuff. "You... FIEND! How dare you lay a single finger on my lovely wife!" Oh, were they... Okay. Cool! Wait, no. Her wife? Aw, heck! Mable was going to be super mad that Eight splatted her! This could get really bad! It could get just as bad as Jane had after Ophelia had gotten splatted. "Why?! Such a lovely woman, and you dared to harm her! WHY?!" Wait. Were those... Fake tears? Was. Was this a thing? Eight didn't know if this was a thing.  
  
How should she respond to this? "Mwahahaha... Of course!" _NOT LIKE THAT._ See, this is why Eight kind of wants her memories back. She likes to think that Pre-Amnesia Eight is less of an idiot, and also doesn't let her mouth go on autopilot sometimes. Well. If that was what she said. Then like. Maybe go along with it? "She discovered my true plans... She had to be eradicated..." Stop. This is a bad idea. This is such a bad idea. You are going to die. Pre-Amnesia Eight would never have done this. Stop. Are you still going on? Yup, you are. Eight, you're an idiot.  
  
Mable raised her Inksprayer. "JUSTICE!" And then an almost solid wave of blue mist erupted from the aerosol can mounted on the end of her Inksprayer. It left an almost perfect sheet of ink behind on the ground as it settled, no splat markings or anything! It had a pretty decent reach, so Eight would totally have to back it up to deal with this. "Take this! Beautiful Moonlight Mist, blind my foes!" What the heck did that mean? She barely caught it, but the sun glinted off something being thrown right past her head. The sound of glass breaking caught her attention for a moment. Was that... Ah. Yup. That was Toxic Mist alright. Toxic Mist. It was. Fine. Alright. Yup. Totally.  
  
Eight made sure to just. Not. Go. Near that stuff, because... It... Was SUCH a nonproblem, it wasn't even worth thinking about! Or talking about! Ever!  
  
That Inksprayer was dangerous. And it was hard to get around, so... Burst Bombs. Throw more of them. Eight holstered her Splattershot, generated a pair of them, and threw. Mable suddenly stopped spraying that cloud of mist and moved forwards, much faster than she had been advancing while she was firing. Okay. More Burst Bombs are clearly required. More of them. Now. Eight threw another pair, only for Mable to just slide between their arcs and come out the other side with not a single mark on her! Fine! MORE BOMBS. If her old squadmate had taught her anything, it was this.  
  
Sub Weapons were the answer to everything. If you hadn't solved a problem, use a Sub. Problem not solved? Throw another one. Keep going until the problem is solved.  
  
In honour of her lost memories, Eight would carry this philosophy in her hearts. Also, since Eight had apparently lost control of her mouth during this whole ordeal, may as well go with it. "Nice try with that fancy mist, Mable! But it's no match for my..." Think of a fancy name, think of a fancy name. "Bomb Crusher!"  
  
"Ooh, nice name!"  
  
"I try, yes." Eight pulled out two bombs and grasped them in her hands like big marbles. They felt kind of squishy and wet and gross, but whatever. She had a cool move to pull off. Hopefully. Eight moved in. Mable activated her Inksprayer, but it just wasn't. Quick. Enough. Eight danced outside the spray, and moved in for the kill. She spread her arms wide and then brought them in for a massive clap! The resulting blast would definitely result in Mable being splatted! Checkmate!  
  
Mable gave a deranged giggle before jumping and shifting in midjump! What?! "Nice try," the dark blue Squid said dangerously, just barely skimming the edge of the ink blast that Eight had created. She shifted back as she fell, doing a sickass backflip off of the bridge. "Try and follow this!" Oh, we doing this? Under the bridge fight? No shifting? Oh, heck yeah, baby. Eight was all over that stupid nonsense! That. Was. Her. JAM. Eight followed her off the bridge and pulled out the Splattershot! Except there was nobody here. On the ceiling? No, Inklings didn't have the same capability of stealth that Octolings had. Behind the big blobby barrier thing? No... Where was she?  
  
"Where are you?"   
  
Mable laughed from her position in front of the entrance to under the bridge, posed dramatically. "Oh, yoohoo!" Dramatically was an understatement, actually. She'd cocked her hip out to one side way too far, bent at one knee, stretched one arm over her head and linked it with the other one, and then balanced roughly ten whole bottles of... Oh. Oh no. This was bad. "Behold! My ultimate attack! Full Moon Burst: Moonlight Mist Mirage!" No no no no! This. This wasn't a problem. It wasn't a problem, it wasn't. Mable laughed dramatically and spun, sending every bottle into the space under the bridge.  
  
Toxic Mist filled the air. This was, mmh, bad, it, rrgh, no, no, no, NO! "This isn't happening," Eight coughed in the sickly sweet mist. A shape, possibly Mable, darted past. It was barely visible in the dark and fog below the center stage. She wanted out. Eight wanted out! Get out! Get out! Get out! Get it out! Get it out! Get it out! Get it out before the pain starts again! STOP! "Stop! No! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! STOP!" Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. St _op. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop! Stop! Stop! S **top! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! STOPSTO PSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP**_  
  
 ~~ _so sweet. she could barely move. hard to keep eyes open._~~  
  
 ~~ _"retrieving subject." arms around her shoulders. rubble beneath her feet. straps on her arms. hurts._~~  
  
 ~~ _"applying san-1." liquid. on her skin. in her throat. her tentacles. her hearts. everywhere but the soul._~~  
  
 ~~ _"copying memories." ideas on a screen. bombs. barriers. weapons. people. her squad. her team. her family._~~  
  
 ~~ _"generating mental block." thoughts dulled. speech hardened. emotions taken._~~  
  
 ~~ _"erasing memories." no. they were hers. or maybe. not? hard to tell._~~  
  
 ~~ _"generating secondary mental block." her memories. give back. give... gone._~~  
  
 ~~ _"designation: applicant/subject." get out. had to get out._~~  
  
 ~~ _"applying san-2." needle. cold. hurts._~~  
  
 ~~ _"application approved. welcome to the deepsea metro."_~~  
  
 ~~ _eyes open. the old man speaks._~~  
  
 ~~ _where... was she?_~~  
  
The memories popped like a soap bubble as Eight slammed her fist against the wall under the bridge. Where had Mable gone? Way to go, Eight! Way to not pay any attention to what's going on. Man, she was hungry. Okay, time to go figure out whatever was going on! Eight Superjumped back to Spawn. Okay! What was going on now! "Come to pay an old woman a visit, have you?" OH MY GOSH WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT. Eight spun and fired her Splattershot wildly, barely hitting anything. Granny Burnes lowered her Stamp and smiled grimly. A blue Beakon rested next to her. Wow, had there really been a Beakon there the entire match?! "I'd hope so. I've been wanting to speak with you, young lady." Oh no, this was happening.  
  
Eight really did not want this to happen. Mostly because Granny Burnes freaked Eight out for various reasons, the biggest of which being that she didn't have any of the more obvious genetic markers that most Octarians obtained at some point in their life. This woman was fast approaching her later years, and she still lacked most of those. No painted claws, no eye colour shift from what she'd seen, no gill stripes, no nothing! It was like she'd... Like she'd... Oh. Ohhh.  
  
"Ohhhh _shit_ ," Eight breathed.  
  
"Sounds about right," Granny replied cheerfully, pushing her glasses up to reveal dangerously yellow eyes. Oh no. This was bad. This was SO bad. She wasn't from a Vat. And she wasn't a Natural. She was from Before. "It's refreshing to see somebody tell me I'm scary, you know. Most children look at me and see a one hundred and twenty year old woman, not a former soldier." She was from _before the Great Turf War_. And if that was the case... Then she wasn't just skilled. She'd learned how to fight without Spawnpoints. Without ink weaponry. Without anything that modern soldiers took for granted. Possibly one of the most dangerous women on the planet.  
  
The moment Eight moved off the Spawnpoint, Granny moved. That Stamp of hers spun around her arms almost like a living thing before it swung upwards in a deadly arc. Eight barely managed to backpedal enough to dodge the darn thing. Granny caught it, took a step fowards, and sent the weapon back down. Eight decided to just. Shoot Granny. Because it'd be easier. Except no. Because Granny was actually a threat, and managed to block every shot Eight took with that insane Stamp weapon. A set of sharpened teeth gleamed in the midday sunlight, and wow, Eight did not want to deal with this right now! Back in the forcefield with her! "So! Where are ya from, young lady?"  
  
"S-Sector 2! Maam!"  
  
"Aw, don't call me maam! I'm too old for that, you know! Good to hear news from the old town, though! Now tell me honest..." That Stamp suddenly whipped up and stopped just an inch away from Eight's face. Granny's dangerous grin grew. Heck. Heck. Heck. This was bad. "How in the name of Mount Nantai did you manage to get up here?"  
  
"I fought my way up." True, but also not remotely what Granny might think! HAH. Take that. Eight shifted to Octopus and pushed off the top of the Stamp before shifting back in midair. Granny spun on her heel and swung that Stamp of hers. Nope! Not gonna hit Eight! Nice try. Eight fell down onto the ledge below the Spawnpoint and fired upwards. Granny did a sweet spinning backflip to dodge the shots, but JOKE WAS ON HER! Eight had some Burst Bombs ready! Toss! Toss! "And I'm not going back!"  
  
Granny blocked them both. Again. Jerk. And then brought down the Stamp. The resulting wave knocked Eight back a bit. And now she saw why the bottles were there - when Granny brought down the Stamp, it shot out jets of ink stored in the bottles and inked further than the Stamp usually would. Nice... Still not worth the tradeoff from a decent Shooter though. "Ah, I see! A fighter, then! Shooters too, I see!" It'd be really really cool if Granny could just. Like. Stop smiling? Eight was honestly really creeped out already, that smile wasn't freaking helping. That Stamp spun back around and knocked Eight for a loop, sending her sprawling to the ground. Ow, ow, ow, Eight was already done with this. "You've certainly got the guts for it! And you're certainly skilled with those weapons of yours!"  
  
"Who are you!" Eight yelled, rolling away from a spinning overhead strike as Granny descended. "You're not like any Combat Forces I've ever met!"  
  
"Does it matter? I've got skills, and who I was before doesn't much matter!" Gosh, that was relatable. Eight kind of wanted to tell other people that too. Ah, darn it! It would've been so cool to just belt out that kind of one liner at Zoey earlier! Granny spun the Stamp again and knocked Eight's Splattershot out of her hands! No! Her new weapon! No _way_ she'd get to it without a solid fight. "And if we're honest, if I did tell you, it'd take a lot of the fun out of things. Old folk like me don't get many chuckles. Now let's talk..." She rested her Stamp against the nearby wall, and shifted her posture.  
  
Ah. That sort of chat, was it? Alright then... Granny had better reach, better speed, better... Everything. She'd need to get this over with fast. Eight moved into a light stance, like what she'd been taught by the Captain. Granny observed her for a long moment. The sixty seconds alert started, the sounds of Pearl and Marina's voices giving urgency to the fight. "Are we going?" Eight asked. "Or are you too old to know how to fight?"  
  
"Heheheh... Don't give me sass, young lady." Eight dived under a sudden jab, grabbed the offending arm and pulled herself inwards. Elbow to the chest, pull her down, fist to the throat, back up and guard! Granny responded with a lightning fast flurry of punches to Eight's face, before sending a kick right at her knee! Argh, that hurt! Eight barely had time to respond before Granny did a sweet spinning flip kick to send Eight sprawling. Flip back up, get to work, Eight. They traded a few more barely dodged hits, kneejerk reactions to seeing fists and feet flying directly at you, but it wouldn't last. Granny deflected one last punch before laying in with three kicks - one to Eight's waist, another to the side of her head, and then a third pushing and sent Eight tumbling head over heels. Oof! "Age always wins over youth."  
  
Not quite... Time to run, old lady. Eight grabbed the Splattershot that she'd lost earlier and fired in quick bursts, randomized to prevent Granny from getting any good guesses as to how to dodge them. Still, Granny managed to dodge the weaponfire with a series of awesome flips and then hopped up the ledge into the center of the stage. Darn it, Eight would have to chase her, wouldn't she? This sucked.  
  
Eight ran after her. Up the ledge, and... She was gone? Where had she gone to?! "Come on... I thought you wanted to chat." BEHIND YOU! Eight ducked and rolled away as Granny's fist slammed into the steel ship. Geeze, just a second longer, and that would've splatted her for sure! "You're quite the little ball of instincts, aren't you? Heh. Try this." And then-- MOVE! Eight sidestepped, only for Granny's fist to slam into her face like-- DUCK. Eight threw herself down, right into the path of a kick. OW. OW.  
  
Hitting the ground hurt. Eight can tell you that right now. "H-How did you..."  
  
"Instincts are handy, but too easy to manipulate. Well, I've seen all I need to know. Make sure to get your memories back soon, young lady. I want a proper fight." What? What did that even _mean?_ How do you even know that Eight lost her memories?! Get back here! Granny glanced over her shoulder and looked at Eight with something just vaguely approaching concern. "Oh. Yes. By the way... Have you taken a look in the mirror recently? You should. Might figure something out." Stop being cryptic and vague! Eight wants answers from you, you stupid old lady! Of course, Eight wanted something - so it promptly removed itself from the equation and Superjumped away. Jerk.  
  
And then the horn sounded. Awesome.  
  
Those voices rang out again, who were they? _"Calculating the odds! Counting the ink!"_  
 _"Blue Team got... 58.7%! Wow, super cool!"_  
 _"Yellow Team got... 32.5%! Not bad!"_  
 _"The winner is... BLUE TEAM! CONGRATULATIONS!"_  
  
... They lost?  
  
How?! Eight was kicking butt! She'd beaten Benny and Zoey, and Mable had just kinda vanished halfway through that fight, and Granny had done almost nothing the entire last minute except fight Eight! How did Team Weirdo manage to beat Team Cool Dudes?! They were all such weirdos! "Well, that does happen sometimes," Marina sighed. "It's best not to focus on it too much. Sometimes you just lose." Well no! Eight wouldn't be focusing on it so much if everything she'd seen hadn't indicated that they were winning! This was so weird! The scores popped up, and oh wow, even on the losing team, they were still good.  
  
"Fuck! I lost to Ida?" Three groaned. "Ugh. My new personal low."  
  
And in first, with 852 points, was... Marina! Yay! "I won? I mean, uh, obviously, I won. I'm amazing. You seen me fighting?" Eight had seen lots of Sci-Ops people fight. They weren't bad, but their ego about their skills was honestly really awful. Marina decided to do a fancy celebratory dance. It had some fancy flips and stuff in it, and it was pretty neat. "Who's the best? Who's the best? In my dreams, I am the best. It's me." That sounded like a reference of some kind.  
  
After that, Three came in second, just barely losing out to Marina with 834 points. "GOD. FUCKING. SHIT. FUCK. FUCK YOU GRANNY BURNES!" Granny, from across the lobby, mentioned something about how Three wasn't exactly her type? This just made Three scream louder. "FUCKING HELL. Can't believe this. Ida, you only beat me because Granny decided to fucking stalk me all match! Like an asshole!"  
  
Marina nodded agreeably and patted Three on the shoulder. "If it makes you feel better to say that, then sure, of course."  
  
"You are literally the worst person of all time. I could time travel, and I doubt I'd ever find anybody with worse morality than you, Ida."  
  
Eight decided to ignore that and check on who came in third. It looked like... Oh! Eight was in third! With 810 points! Heck yeah! Kicking butt and taking names! Nobody could beat her! And then Pearl came in last with 802 points. Which meant everybody did better than Benny, who only beat them with that 1000 point bonus, since he only got six hundred points! Awesome! "It's honestly better this way," Zoey said exhaustedly. "If you won, Three would be gloating." True. That was a good reason for not winning this fight, but also it annoyed Eight that they hadn't won.  
  
"Says little miss 'I need five hundred points per match or I throw a tantrum'."  
  
"Look, it's a matter of pride."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"You lost to that Marina girl, right?"  
  
"Okay, first of all. Fuck off. Second of all. _Fuck off._ "  
  
Eight ignored the arguing to focus on Granny Burnes. She was just relaxing next to the lobby entrance, almost like she was asleep... How do you pose like that and not stay awake? The door entrance would be digging into your back! Eight walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. "Ah. Thought you'd be here. Ask." So she wasn't as annoying as she looked, huh? Right. Questions. Eight decided to start with the most obvious one she had.  
  
"How do you know I lost my memories?"  
  
Granny smiled. Eight was tempted to punch her in the face. "Oh, that? Just something I remembered." She then refused to elaborate.  
  
"What division were you?" This was important. Eight had her suspicions, but she wasn't entirely sure.  
  
Granny smiled. Eight wanted to strangle her. "Oh, that? Can't remember. Memories tend to leak, I'm getting old, you know! I'm an old woman!" What? No she wasn't. A hundred and twenty-six might be old compared to Eight, but that was still almost seventy years off being of old age! "Though if I had to pick any division to be part of, I'd say... Sci-Ops." Okay, no. That was a lie. No way anybody that dangerous came from a division like Sci-Ops. It'd be like if Eight said she came from Int-Ops. She was too obviously a soldier for that to work.  
  
"Why did you say you'd seen everything you needed to know?"  
  
"Because I did see everything." And? Any other reason?! You going to try answering non-cryptically?! "It's fairly obvious to me. Don't worry though, you'd have to run in a very particular circle to notice what I saw, and I'm fairly certain nobody else in Inkopolis would notice." WHAT DOES THAT EVEN ACTUALLY MEAN, YOU CRAZY OLD WOMAN?  
  
Goodness, Eight wanted to hurt Granny right now. She didn't think she was capable of it, but she still wanted to punch her. "I hate you. Tell me what that means."  
  
Granny nodded cheerfully. "That's the spirit! And not until you have Clearance Level 8 from Octavio, wherever Craig is keeping him these days." ... What? _Why._ Why would Eight possibly, FOR WHAT REASON would she need the highest level of security clearance available to Octarian kind to know that information. That would... Mean... Oh god. Are you serious. Are you actually for real serious. Why would she need to be authorized by _the leader of the nation_ to know that. "But, if you want a hint... Never make a deal that you don't know the full consequences of. They'll always go sour." _Hints_. She was getting _hints_. Also, did she mean Craig as in MC Cuttlefish?! How did she know his first name?!  
  
"Why do I need to look in a mirror?" One last question, Eight couldn't deal with whatever this lady was rambling about for much longer.  
  
Granny stared. It made Eight feel less like she was standing in front of a person and more like she was standing in front of a security camera. "You said you fought your way up. Most people don't get one _ounce_ of the luck you have." And then, like a cryptic weirdo, she meandered over to Three and started assisting Zoey and Mable in making fun of Three. Could Granny stop being cryptic for ten seconds? Just ten. It'd be great. Eight understood why Three had beef with her now. Okay... So... Eight wasn't all that lucky. She'd managed to escape the Domes, but ended up chased by Agent Three. She escaped Agent Three, but ended up in Kamabo. How the heck was any of that lucky?  
  
By the time they wound up outside, Three had been forced into a seat and surrounded by friends. And Benny. "What the fuck is this gunk on your face?" Mable asked as she applied some kind of cloth to Three's eye. "It cleans off, same as any ink, but hell if I can place the texture." Texture? It had texture? That was... pretty ominous. Most normal ink didn't have any texture. It was kind of like water, in a way. It ran through your fingers, it splashed, it could be heated, the only difference was that it was just barely had more mass and weight. The greenish goop stuff, though... It was more like... Grease, or liquid soap. It was slimey and all goopy.  
  
Three was dead silent for roughly a minute. "Chemical accident." That was fairly true.  
  
"Have you gone to a doctor yet?" Zoey asked worriedly.  
  
"Nah."  
  
"Stop neglecting your health immediately," Granny demanded.  
  
Three groaned. "Shut uuuupppp, you're not my mother!"  
  
Dramatic gasps filled the air. "How DARE you?!" Mable yelled. "Zoey made you those lunches out of the goodness of her heart! You would've DIED if not for her amazing lunches!"  
  
Zoey fake-sobbed. "It's _fine_. I understand."  
  
Granny sighed. "Three, I am so disappointed in you."  
  
Three made a noise of thinly veiled embarrassment.  
  
Eight didn't care for noises of thinly veiled embarrassment.  
  
While that was going on, Marina almost gleefully abandoned Three and dragged Eight over to that The Shoal place to cool off. Pearl thought it was an awesome idea. "If you're always battling, you lose track of time! So we cool off for a bit! This place has some AC, so it's way better than just sitting under one of those umbrellas!" Eight didn't know what AC meant, but _air conditioning_ , how Eight missed your tender embrace! It'd been an absent friend during her time on the Surface! True, Kamabo and the Domes had been full of Terror and Awfulness and No Small Amount Of Nightmarish Fear, but at least they had air conditioning! It was almost enough that she regretted leaving. Almost.  
  
This Shoal place was weird, though! It had this weird neon retro vibe, a lot like Kamabo had shown her in some of the weirder Stations, but less murdery and more homey and filled with life. As it was, there was a bunch of Inklings and Jellyfish playing games in here. Some of them were playing games, and others were just hanging out watching other people playing games. It looked kind of boring compared to the lightning fast pace of a Splat Battle. "Isn't this where we had our first date, Pearl?" Marina asked. "Where I kicked your butt in Kelp Fighter, and you insisted that you were just sick that day? And that, of course, Flora Hawke was a 'busted-ass boss character' anyways?"  
  
"Well she is," Pearl grumbled, but nodding all the way. "We stuffed our faces with like, a hundred Shells worth of cheap fries from the food truck guys out front."  
  
"Totally worth it," Marina said.  
  
Eight was totally content to just. Lean against this wall, right here. And just... _Bask_ in the glory that was interior air conditioning. Oh, goddess of wind! Goddess of love! Gift her with your divine essence! The true essence of joy and peace in this world, the humble air conditioner! But sadly, Pearl and Marina were _evil women_ , and forcibly demanded that Eight do such foolish and infantile things as Have Fun, and Play Games, and Not Stand Under The Air Conditioning For The Next Sixty Hours. The sacrifices you make for friendship would last a lifetime, they truly would. Pearl tried to lay down some backstory about the place, that it also had another entrance not connected to the Square, and how it was bigger on the other side, but Eight was too busy mourning the loss of standing under the air conditioning.  
  
The first thing Eight did was check out those game thingies. The first one she found was pretty interesting! It had this cool black and white image of a figure in some kind of combat uniform standing behind a logo saying Kelp Fighter V Ultra. Huh. It looked pretty neat! Eight wanted to try this one. "How does this one work?" It had an identical machine attached to the back of it, and both sides had some stools with bright red cushions on them. Pearl went to go sit at the opposite machine and gave a wink before she vanished behind the monitor.  
  
"You sit down, insert some coins," Marina explained as she popped five coins into a slot. "And use the joystick and buttons!" Marina then went on a really quick explanation of the buttons, which made it seem pretty easy. Back to block, kicks and punches, seemed fairly easy! The vidscreen flashed brightly as the figure on the side of the cabinet appeared and tried to punch the vidscreen. Kind of rude, now that she thought about it. A screen with a bunch of images of some random locations appeared. Some were deserts, others were boats, it was generally a really weird selection of places. Pearl must've picked one, because the one that just had a question mark on it suddenly highlighted and the screen shifted again.  
  
It shifted to a fancy screen filled with pictures of people, and a chirpy voice demanded that Eight CHOOSE YOUR FIGHTER! Almost immediately, the 2P cursor darted down the list and landed on an image of an old Anemone woman with gigantic muscles and a glittery gold, white, red and blue costume. According to the game, her name was Clara Tunes, and her fighting style was... Flexing? Whatever that meant? Huh. Eight had no idea which character to pick. She guessed that they all had their own ups and downs and stuff, but she honestly didn't know who was who here. Hmm... Oh! She looked nice! That one looked like Callie, but with robot parts! Holly Star, and her fighting style was something called . Huh! Well, Eight was still going to use her. Eight moved the 1P marker onto her and hit the punch button to confirm it. "Ooh, be careful," Marina winced. "Holly has to do Song Combos to do serious damage." Whaaat? So Eight picked a hard character to start with?! BLUH.  
  
The game loaded in an alleyway filled with crates. Both Holly Star and Clara Tunes appeared and gave a boast about how cool they were. Whatever. ROUND ONE! FIGHT! So... Let's be super real? Marina may have explained it, but Eight still had _zero_ idea of what the heck she was doing. Anytime she hit a punch button, it created a little musical note over her head instead of actually doing damage. Kicks were fine though. On the other hand, Clara Tunes was a beast. Every time she flexed, it just so happened to connect to Holly somehow, and acted like an actual attack. The worst one was the Flex Uppercut - it knocked Holly out of whatever Eight was making her do.  
  
Somewhere along the line, she figured out that if she got multiple notes in a row and then did a kick of any kind in a direction, it'd do a fancy cool dance move that dealt like. Almost a tenth of Clara's health. So that was kinda cool. But Pearl still ended up kicking her butt. The second round went almost immediately in Eight's favour. Somehow. Eight had no idea how, but her wild button mashing and joystick flailing managed to make Holly do some big robot speaker attack that melted half of Clara's health bar within three seconds of Round Two starting. It was pretty cool, and bright pink, and it let Eight tear down the rest of Clara's health with a pretty big amount of luxury and not caring. Pearl still managed to take down the third round, though. Eight wasn't good enough to beat her again, and her super cool sound move was lost to the waves of Eight not knowing what the heck she was doing. "Not bad!" Pearl had complimented. "I gotta admit, I was surprised that you managed to pull off that Power Pulse!" Yeah, Eight was too!  
  
She didn't really like this game much. It was pretty, yeah, but it also required that Eight sit down and practice it for hours on end. Not sure she had that kind of time, really. It also gave her the vague impression that Pearl had been taking it easy, and that Eight wouldn't have gotten to move if Pearl had even lifted a finger. It kind of didn't lift Eight's spirits any having that impression.  
  
After that, she checked out one of the games against the walls. It had pictures of rotting and dying people all over it, with big red gory letters at the top declaring that this was HOUSE OF THE DAMNED 3: AFTERLIFE. It looked like something from that Hellshakers shop she'd visited earlier that day. It did look pretty neat though! It had these two plastic guns attached to it, and it looked pretty fun! "This one is pretty cool," Pearl muttered. "But I was always too short to aim at the screen properly." Hmmm... Yeah, she'd give this one a proper shot! Pearl pumped in twenty coins, and Eight grabbed the red gun. Huh. It was a pretty solid hunk of plastic. The only moving part was the trigger.  
  
Marina grabbed the blue gun from next to her. "Care for a hand?" Oh, of course! Eight was going to seriously enjoy this! A wall of text crawled up from the screen, and a heavily crushed audioclip came out of the machine. _'A horrible plague has swept across the nation of Decapoda. Only the best can save what little the nation has. And now, in the year 2000, MAGNUS CHASE and NORA SPADE - former FIA agents gone rogue - have finally found the source of this wretched plague... And are going to destroy it... Once. And. For. ALL.'_ It was pretty corny, to be honest. "Alright! Press the trigger to fire, point it away from the screen to reload, don't shoot any of the civilians!" Marina instructed. Got it!  
  
The game started, and Eight began firing wildly. Every shot resulted in a loud and immensely satisfying BANG noise as the weird rotting creatures fell before an array of bullets and shots. It felt good to be shooting things that were actually apparently dead rather than dead and you didn't know it until you saw them explode! Every one of these... Zombies? Pearl called them zombies, because apparently there were movies about it. Eight still didn't know what a movie was. Every one of these zombies was so stupid! Just rushing up and running right towards them! Up in the corners, there were a bunch of numbers that went up with every kill. Eight was just ahead of Marina, by around a hundred or so. The game suddenly cut out to play some kind of scene? _'Ah! Ada!'_ a character yelled. _'That's not ordinary blood! How DARE they?'_ He sounded kind of bored, actually. _'Don't worry,'_ the apparently named Ada replied as she weakly raised a polygonal arm. _'I can live. Go... But be careful. That HOUSE... It's DAMNED to the CORE!'_ Nice title drop.  
  
For some reason, the front gate was locked, so the game had to direct them all the way around to the back door. Which was weird, couldn't you just shoot the lock or Superjump or something like that? She guessed it was for the game. Around halfway there, weird lizard things with horrible wings started flying in and out and attacking them. They were zippy and hard to hit, so Marina took care of those. She was a good friend. "Oh, you're almost at the boss for stage one!" Pearl yelled. Boss? So this game had a superior? That was pretty weird. They shot some more greenish dot things. It looked more like a bunch of polygons slapped together than anything else, but apparently they did poison? Also, Eight's bright red health bar under her bullet count was starting to get low. She hoped there was a way to refill that thing. A loud shriek rang out as they got to the back gate, and some kind of creepy Salmonid-Cephalopod hybrid leaped out of the moat. _'Hah. Hah. Hah. The Master is not to be disTURBED,'_ it said weirdly. _'Go to hell!'_ one of their player characters yelled back. A big red bar appeared at the top with the caption of 'Gate Guard', and Eight figured that was the boss?  
  
They tried shooting it, but it was only vulnerable when it opened its mouth. It had these weird tentacle things that it shot out, kind of like horrible worms trying to eat your face off. Those were easy to shoot by comparison, but all the blood and gore was starting to get to her. They eventually managed to kill the Gate Guard after figuring out that shooting it in the eye made it roar, so they abused that until they got the crushed audioclip of STAGE CLEAR! Apparently, they'd both gotten an S for Kills, a B for Time, but while Marina got an A for Accuracy, Eight only managed to get a D! Those stupid Zippyzoots! That was what they were. Eight named them that. That was their official name from now on.   
  
The next stage was kind of just more of the same, but all the zombies had different clothes on now. She kind of saw how it was fun, but also it was a bit repetitive. They kept going until they both died to some kind of awful creature that Marina called a pupper. This sparked a roughly three minute long argument over whether it was better to call it a Doggo or a Pupper. Eight, for the record, had no actual clue what the heck they were arguing over. At least Eight finished with 300 more points than Marina.  
  
Then came the dance battle. Or, as Pearl would later call it and be inspired to use as the name of Off The Hook's newest song, The Worst Beatdown Ever. The game in question was called Squid Beats 2. Or. Well. It was Squid Beatz 2, but Eight refused to speak the letter Z instead of the proper S. It was silly. Pearl apparently didn't like the game much, but was decent at it. "The first game is way better. All this modernization of classic games is stupid as hell, dude. I mean, upgrading the graphics means you lost all the original charm! Where's the fun in that!"  
  
"The fun is that it doesn't look like century old flash games," Marina replied snippily.  
  
"Don't even look at me right now, babe."  
  
"Whatever! If you two are going to sweat up a storm, then I'll go get some drinks." Marina walked away as Pearl and Eight walked onto the multi-coloured dance pads. It seemed pretty simple - just four arrows that controlled the entire game, hit one when the arrows hit the marker at the top, and if it looks long, just hold the step. That was simple. It was quite literally the simplest thing that Eight had ever heard in her entire life, even simpler than how to fire an Octoshot. Nothing could possibly, utterly, terribly go wrong at all in the slightest. At all.  
  
Oh how naive she was.  
  
The song? Wannabay, by the Sushimi Girls. The difficulty? Hooked, the highest possible on this machine. "I've got it unlocked up to Inkantation at home," Pearl explained. Which. Great. Cool. Awesome. Eight was going to get her butt kicked. Awesome. The game began, and some commentator in game condescendingly asked ARE YOU A DANCIN' MASTER? at her. Which. Rude. Eight was barely even a dancing learner. Dancing was pretty neat to look at, but heck if Eight could figure it out. It was all weird and feet-based and stuff. Her brain couldn't wrap around it. The game went whoosh several times, before actually arriving on a trippy rainbow background with lots of arrows on it.  
  
Pearl immediately began asserting her dominance by earning multiple Perfects in a row, whereas Eight missed six completely, barely hit another two, and only got one Great. This would set the tone for the rest of the five minute song. After a minute or two, she got a bit more used to it. She was getting Goods and a few Greats and occasionally the rare Perfect, but on Pearl's side... Um. Yeah. No. Pearl was getting Perfect!! every few seconds, and was on roughly 184 combo. Eight, meanwhile, was lucky to make it past 20 combo. By the halfway point, the game started introducing holds? Which confused the heck outta Eight, and she kind of started missing half the arrows for a while. It was embarrassingly one-sided, and it was kind of obvious to Pearl as well.  
  
The song ended, and Pearl had... No misses, no Goods, no Greats, 361 Perfects. "You kind of won," Eight stated blandly. On her own side, she'd gotten... 150 Misses, 150 Goods, 49 Greats and 12 Perfects. It was really not great. "... I don't think this is really my sort of game."  
  
"... Maybe if we turn the difficulty down?" Pearl winced. And. Eight was fairly certain that wouldn't do much but salvage her ego. So of course she agreed. This time, she did... Marginally better than before. She only got 20 Misses instead of 150, but her and Pearl's scores were more or less the same. At the very least, Eight didn't feel like her legs were melting off anymore. They just felt vaguely tired and hurt. This was an improvement over earlier. "Geeze. Eight, I think maybe you're just not good at dancing." Yeah. Eight was. Not great at this. She decided to leave this particular game for a bit.  
  
Roughly four minutes later, Marina walked back in with some drinks. And, as an added bonus, Three! Who looked incredibly tired and stressed out. Possibly more stressed out than when Eight first met her, which was possibly dangerous for everybody's health and safety. "I return from the black depths from which all thought flows. Having destroyed that ruinous pit, I arose to this plateau of decaying thought. Having fun?"  
  
Oh, totally! Well. Sorta. "Kinda sorta... Pearl kicked my ass at this Squid Beats 2 game."  
  
"Squid BeatZZZZ," Pearl growled.  
  
"I _refuse_ to say that."  
  
Three nodded understandingly. "Figures. Fucking rhythm games." She paused for a moment and looked at Eight uncertainly. Eight didn't quite like that look. "So. Quick question. Did Granny ask you or say to you anything that was... Uh, fucking ominous and possibly existentially terrifying?" Did she ask Eight anything ominous or terrifying? Oh, well, let Eight pull out the list! Oh, you're lucky, and you look different, and deals can go sour, and lah-dee-freaking-dah, look at ME! I'm Granny Burnes! I'm a cryptic weirdo who refuses to make any sense! BLUH BLUH! HUGE WITCH! EXCEPT SHE WASN'T A WITCH! IT STARTED WITH A B!  
  
Eight just sighed. "She said that I should look at a mirror to figure something out. And that I was lucky, somehow. And also that she 'saw' something about me. And that it was something that only certain people would notice. And that if I wanted to know, I need to be authorized by DJ Octavio personally. Also, some cryptic ramblings about deals?" None of this seemed to surprise or weird out Three in the slightest. Rather, it was more like an anti-surprise. Like she'd expected this.  
  
"Yeah. She does that. Hyperanalyzing people and giving them vague, yet essential life advice is kind of her thing." Three took a sip out of a cup of cocoa. Eight internally cursed the cup and hoped it burst into flames. The heretical flavour... "Honestly, she's kind of just a cryptic woman in general? I've known her two fucking years now, and I don't know shit besides the fact that she's old, gay, married, and born to torture me specifically. Other than that? Who the fuck knows!"  
  
That was... Unsettling. But also bizarrely refreshing? Hearing that Granny was just a weird old lady with a habit of saying cryptic stuff kind of made her less upset about everything? Like hey, maybe she's just a crazy old lady! Does anything she says mean anything? Probably not! It was good to know that maybe Eight was just psyching herself out for no good reason. But... Like... "Has she ever been right?"  
  
"All the time, yes." Heck.  
  
Eight laughed weakly. Everyone kind of looked at her worriedly, which made her even more worried. "Marina? Um, could you, uh... Come with me? I want to check something."  
  
"Sure! Pearlie, hold my drink?"  
  
"I'll hold your drink for you babe."  
  
Three started quoting more weird literature again, so Eight left for the nearest bathroom. There was a mirror in front of the sinks there, so... Mirror time. "Are you worried?" Marina asked as Eight pulled up her sleeves and inspected her arms. Nothing wrong she could see there. "Whatever that Granny woman said to you, it doesn't change anything, alright?" It might though. And that worried Eight a lot. It worried her more than words could physically describe. Okay... So there was nothing wrong with her arms... Maybe with her chest? Eight pulled off her sweater and pulled up the bottom of the weird undershirt she'd been given to wear to inspect her waist. Hmmm... Nothing wrong there, either.  
  
"I know. But... I don't know. She just... Unsettles me. You know?" Marina nodded agreeingly. Good to know that Eight wasn't the only person knocked off balance by Hundred Year Old Monster Woman Granny Burnes. "Could you move your shirt for a minute? I just... Want to make sure that I'm not a mutant or something."  
  
"Oh, sure." Marina moved up her sleeves. Sure, there were some scars there, but nothing worth remarking over. Comparing her face to Marina's in the mirror, there weren't many differences. Some age markers, some general genetic differences like eye sizes and general ear shape. It was... Normal, she guessed? Hmm. Granny had been right though. Something was pinging at the edge of her head. Like... There was something wrong here. But she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Hm. Their claws were the same, both coloured - though Marina's were further up her fingers than Eight's. Gill stripes were there. Eyes were fine. "Um... Can I... Tell you something?" Marina asked quietly.  
  
Uh. Obviously! "Yeah, of course. Just, um. I need to check on something real quick, just. Talk, okay?" Eight ducked into a stall and pulled off her pants to stare at her legs. Nothing there either. Maybe her skin was pale or she looked sickly or something? Eight honestly didn't know. This was all so weird. Feet were fine too, clawtips down there needed to be sharpened a bit, but nothing else odd. "So what's up?" Eight asked as she pulled everything back on. Maybe talking with Marina would sooth her nerves or something.  
  
Marina sighed. "I... I know you like Three and all. But... Every time I look at her, I just..." She trailed off after a moment. There was a long period of dead silence. And then Marina spoke again, more measured and even than before. "Did you know that we only needed three months? Three months, and we'd have sapped the Zapfish of enough power to survive for a decade? If we'd just... Had the time, we... We could've fixed everything. You still would've kept your memories... I would still have my family. Everything would be absolutely fine. We still would've been underground, but..." They wouldn't be here. Uncertain about the life you'd left behind.  
  
Eight was kind of panicking about it, really. It was all pretty confusing. "I kind of get it. I probably had some friends too." It was weird to think about. "You mentioned, back at Arowana Mall... Three hurt people you cared about. Do you... Remember who?"  
  
"Arlene Lunulata and Lorelei Callisto. Arlene was like my sister, lazy, bored, asking if she could crash on my bunk. And Lorelei... I think that if I wasn't here on the Surface, I... I think that I might have loved her instead of Pearl." Oh. Ohhh. Oh, that was heavy. "We all transferred in from the Canyon to the Valley some while ago, and our lives were... Busy. But workable, you know? We even had a band. The one and only Triple Threat Tentacle! We met up once a week to play some music... And then Sector 3 happened." Oh heck. That was literally the worst thing possible for any backstory involving Octo Valley.  
  
Sector 3, as Eight had already mentioned, was where the idiots who took hostages had come from. But not only that, Three seemed to take general offense to the entirety of Sector 3. She'd been more aggressive there than anywhere else in the entire Valley. It hadn't been a great month for _anybody_ , not Octarians or Agent Three. "Ah. I see." You couldn't really say anything else, really. Like, oh, I'm glad you survived a natural disaster?  
  
"Arlene was Int-Ops. She got sent to figure out a weakness to exploit against Three. And Lorelei was sent out to back her up, as part of Support-Ops." Oh. Oh, this was going to go _really badly_ , Eight could tell. Three barely flinched against Front-Ops troops, and made it a habit to take down Great Octoweapons like it was as easy as breathing. Int-Ops dealt in communication and information and Support-Ops got the least combat training out of literally anybody. Against an actual threat like Three? This would go very badly. "They never came back... A freak accident. When Three took any Zapfish, it took five seconds for the Spawnpoints to convert from normal power to reserve power. And in those five seconds... Both of them happened to fall into the abyss below. There's no way either of them lived through that."  
  
Heck. That made an enormous amount of sense. Because of Three coming along, and that Spawnpoint needing to switch from one power source to another, two people had died. It suddenly made a lot of sense that Marina was not a big fan of Three. "So Three killed two people by accident," Eight stated as she walked out of the stall.  
  
"I don't even know what to think about it anymore. Like, would I be more mad if Three actually laid hands on them? Or am I mad because Three didn't even seem to think that they were worth killing? I don't even know what makes me more upset!" Marina laughed bitterly. Eight didn't like to hear it. So she gave Marina as tight a hug as she could manage. After a moment, she could feel Marina start crying. "What makes it even worse is that... I imagined that she was just some nothing. A nobody. Some... Random Vatgrown idiot made just for hurting us. And now I find out that she has friends who care about her, and a great job, and people who actually enjoy her company and... I was _supposed_ to leave all of this Inkling hatred behind me, but every time I hear her or see her or just know that she's there, I... I just hope that she tries something. Anything. Anything to give me an excuse to take revenge."  
  
... Well. What do you say to that? Because Eight didn't want anybody to fight, let alone two people she was friends with. Splat Battling was one thing, but wanting to hurt somebody... No. That couldn't happen. Eight refused to let that happen. No more hurt and no more pain. Something had to change. Something had to be fixed. At least, that's what Eight thought, anyways. If she had a clue on how to do any of that, she'd take a running jump at it and fix the problem right then and there. But she still didn't have a clue on how to fix any of this. What could she say to Marina? Something that would make the problem better? "I think I get what you mean. Three chased me down, and I barely remember how I lost my memories... I could hate her. I think it'd be really easy."  
  
"But you don't," Marina accused.  
  
"But I don't. Anytime I remember... Anything from my past... It's _miserable_. Somebody gets hurt. Or they leave. Or worse. If it happens every single time, then..." Eight tightened her hug. "Then maybe it'd be better if I never remember anything else. I don't want to live in that misery. Of losing friends. I just want to... Live. Ignore everything and just take life as it comes at me."  
  
"Ignore the past, and it can't hurt you?" Marina asked as they parted.  
  
"That's the idea."  
  
They were both silent for a moment. Marina sighed. "That's a sad conversation. I don't think we should be having it right on your first day on the Surface. So, did you find what you were looking for?" To be entirely honest, Eight wasn't totally sure. She was pretty sure that something was off about her body, but heck if she could tell what it was. Maybe she needed to spend a few more days on the Surface or something, but Eight was pretty sure she was fine.  
  
"I think so," Eight replied slowly. Marina wiped the tears out of her eyes and smiled tiredly. Eight was starting to get really upset by people looking tired. They walked out of the bathroom and went back to Pearl and Three. Both of them were playing Kelp Fighter V and were yelling trashtalk at each other. She wondered who was winning? The actual, literal moment that Eight had this thought, Three swore and slammed her head into the controls and Pearl began cackling like a madwoman. Solved that question. "Hey you two!"  
  
"Sup, Eight!" Pearl laughed.  
  
"Hey," Three replied tonelessly.  
  
Marina yawned loudly. "So, are we doing another Splat Battle?"  
  
It would've been easy to respond, but Eight suddenly spied something on Three. And it made her blood run cold as ice. "Three, do you have a picture of yourself from before you came to Kamabo?" She needed to know this right the heck now. Three nodded and pulled out her phone, and a second later, showed Eight a picture of her standing next to her Zoey, Mable and Granny. Eight looked carefully at the current Three and saw the very precise difference. Which meant... If Eight had been down there... Eight ran back into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Memories flowed back. And Eight suddenly _fully understood_ why Granny said that Eight had been lucky.  
  
She had nicks and bumps from the last week, and a few scratch markings from her fights today... But none of it was _old_. Not a single mark on her body looked older than a week. That goop... Oh no. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. She'd had scars, she knew. Arguments, old missions, little scrapes and wounds she'd collected over the years. "Eight! What's wrong?" Pearl yelled as she ran into the bathroom, followed closely by Three and Marina.  
  
"... I figured out why Granny wanted me to look in the mirror." Eight had been looking for something wrong with her. But that was the problem. There was nothing wrong with her. At all. Every scar she'd ever gotten, every wound and cut... It was all gone. "They took everything from me. I can't even claim that I was a soldier... I'm not even me anymore!"  
  
Three frowned. "I know you're having kind of a crisis, but care to explain?"  
  
"I... It's in your tentacles." Eight moved close and moved her hand across Three's tentacles. There were scars running up and down her entire head... Except for the one spot where that goop had attached itself to her head. That spot was entirely clean and untouched. "I noticed that spot on your head looked healthy. Compare it to the photo, you're unscarred there. So I took another look at myself. I'm not scarred. I'm not burned. I'm not anything except completely and totally unmarked."  
  
Marina's eyes widened in understanding. "Right! You're a former soldier, but you look almost entirely fresh out of the Vats... Show me your hands!" Eight held them out, and they were just as unmarked. "What the hell! You should have grip markings from the Octoshot, but there's nothing..."  
  
Three frowned. "So what, Kamabo decided to make us healthy before it tried to murder us in cold blood? Why the fuck would it do something like that? Far as I can tell, there's nothing to gain from doing shit like that at all..."  
  
Pearl sighed loudly. "I know it's freaky as hell to think about, right? But you're still you. Shut up!" Eight closed her mouth. "You're still our friend. We still care about you. Nothing is going to change anything about that fact, okay? Nothing at all."  
  
Marina nodded in agreement. "Right! It doesn't matter what changes! Both of us are here for you, no matter what happens. Okay? We're both here, and we're not going anywhere." Marina leaned in for another hug, and Eight felt Pearl hop in to join them again. She saw Three look sympathetic, but she didn't move to join in on the hug. It'd probably be a bad idea with Marina involved. Hugs were nice. "Do you want to go for another Splat Battle? Or..."  
  
Eight shook her head. "No. I don't feel great. I think I'm done for the day."  
  
The procession back to the car went a lot slower than before. Marina and Pearl held her hands the entire way there. It felt... Nice. Familiar, too. Like she'd been missing something, and only now remembered how much she loved it. Everyone threw their equipment in the back of the car and climbed in. It was notably tenser and more downcast than earlier. Marina looked like she wanted to stab Three, Three had a general air of disappointment, Pearl was looking back and forth between both of them like she wasn't sure if a fight was going to start up or not...  
  
"Hey," Three asked quietly. "Do you... Want me to _leave_?" She sounded fairly awkward.  
  
And... No. She didn't. Heck if she knew why. "No."  
  
"... Hm."  
  
Marina threw Eight a list of the lyrics and hit the radio. The Squid Sisters rang out in the car as Pearl hit the pedal and drove. It was a really odd tune, but still recognizably Squid Sisters. She would later be told that it was an 'Early 2000s Song', and how nobody was really sure if the Early 2000s actually happened or not. Eight thought it was pretty stupid to not know that time passed.  
  
 _"I ink therefore I am! Why don'tcha come outside? We're goin' for a ride, pink blue red or green, you know what I mean, I ink! Therefore I am!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact there was meant to be another Splat Battle here but fuck that fight scenes are hard  
> fun fact two, i had to rewrite this chapter at least six times because Three and Marina literally refused to stop trying to kill each other.


	5. Shopping At The Reef

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come ask me questions at sunsetconcert.tumblr.com! Still not using html!
> 
> Also, this chapter has a BIG chunk of foreshadowing in it. Just the biggest.

_Little brother was far too strange_  
 _Ignored the gun, it wasn't fun_  
 _Bombs were preferred on shooting range_  
  
 _No stealth or guile, not for him._  
 _He paved the way as plain as day,_  
 _Foreshadowing imminent spew._  
  
 _Though it flew errant or amiss,_  
 _See its sly arc hit dead the mark,_  
 _His fate was sealed with its kiss._  
  
 _Not everyone can be a scourge_  
 _In tense combat, he tossed this splat,_  
 _A monument to his last surge._  
  
 _Closer to pyramids than spheres -_  
 _Let fly the bombs! A sigh, then calm._  
 _A pillow stained with ink - or tears._  
  
 _I miss you so, my little bro._  
 _You looked forlorn, you said so long,_  
 _We hated that you had to go._  
  
  
\--

  
"Ida. Please stop listening to Calamari Inkantation. I will listen to Sweet Start. City of Colour. Maritime Memory. Even their godawful fucking debut album. Just please. I _beg_ of you. No. More. Inkantation. Please."  
  
"That's a nice speech there, Three. Unfortunately, I found the next best thing, SPICY CALAMARI INKANTATION! Eight, you ready?!"  
  
"Oooooh!"  
  
It got less awkward as the drive went. Whatever tense atmosphere Three and Marina had made quickly vanished after Pearl started rambling about how the Squid Sisters were 'Alright', which was her opinion, honestly, and that a dude by the name of Notorious IRU.KAND.JI was way cooler. Marina refused this opinion, as she was Smart and Cool and not a Blasphemer, instead citing that if she absolutely had to pick one band over the Squid Sisters, it'd be Sharktooth. Apparently they were some Teen Pop sensation similar to but _legally_ distinct from the Squid Sisters. She put on one of their songs, it wasn't super awful or anything, but Eight still preferred the Squid Sisters.  
  
Three, of course, refused to hold any band other than Mariana Mystery as the highest quality band of all time, and how she'd spent enough time with both Callie and Marie (LUCKY) that she knew every song they'd recorded by heart. "Not of my own volition," she established quickly. A little _too_ quickly, if you asked Eight. "They play their crap all the fucking time. You can never get a fucking word in. It's goddawful, okay? I'd rather die than listen to any of their songs ever again." Hm. Hmm. Hmmm. That was far too quick of a denial for Eight to believe her at all.  
  
Eight sealed it away in her brain for later.  
  
Anyways. Onto the Surface. The area around The Reef - the T in The of The Reef had to be capitalized, Pearl explained, otherwise you'd mistake it for Reef, which was an inferior restaurant in uptown - was much different to Arowana Mall and Inkopolis Square. The giant gleaming buildings made of steel had given way to smaller brickwork rows of buildings, and the massive open roads had squeezed down until there was merely two lanes, one for each direction. Little storefronts blended into a kaleidoscopic blur of colour as they flew past. It was way busier too! It felt like everybody in the world had been squeezed into this one place, was how crowded it was!  
  
As Pearl slowed the car to a stop and parked, Eight noticed that all the shiny billboards and brightly lit adverts had shifted to plasticy stickers and banners stretched across the road at the top of streetlights. Suddenly, the car stopped, and the radio cut out. Much sadness was had this day. The moment they all clambered out, Eight was hit by what felt like a wall of sound. Eight could deal with it, but it was certainly a change!  
  
Pearl yawned as she stretched her arms out. "Man, I feel nostalgic. Used to play here with my old band back in the day." Oh, right! Marina had posted that old picture of Pearl. She'd had that chain on her neck, and the torn pants and stuff. And the boots! Much better than whatever shiny platformy nonsense that Pearl was wearing now. "There used to be this rad cafe here, Zenmetal or something. Had this awesome lighting, soundproofed and everything! Could be as loud as you pleased!"  
  
"Pearl, didn't you get kicked out of there for accidentally blowing up a speaker?" Marina asked suddenly. And yeah, after seeing that insane Killer Wail the other day, Eight'd believe that.  
  
Pearl suddenly looked incredibly shifty. "What? No. I didn't get banned. I just stopped going! They turned the place into this shitty hipster place. First act there after they changed was Justin Flounder." Marina shivered in fright. Three muttered something about the dark times. "Not soon after that, Black Maw broke up, and I was free to go seduce a smokin' hot babe on Mount Nantai!"  
  
Three made a face like she was about to be sick.  
  
Walking down the street was weird. She practically had to stick to Three to not get lost in the crowd. She glanced up, and suddenly flinched as something dived past her face. "Bluh! What was that?!"  
  
"A bird."  
  
... BRD? "You mean like a Battle Ready Device?" Stuff like Octomissiles and Octozeppelins, armed with T-Units to guide them. Automatic battle weapons held in reserve to defend against invaders. If they had that sort of thing up here on the Surface, no wonder Inklings were always so ready to fight! "I didn't know you had those up here."  
  
Three gave her a look. "No. It's an animal. They're feathery things, with wings." She pointed up at a nearby rooftop. There was a collection of tiny little creatures arguing over which one got to eat a half moldy frenchfry. They were white, with little patches of brown scattered all over them. A series of little chirps and tweets were popping out of them every few seconds. It was surprisingly cute... If not for the fact that Eight remembered that they divebombed her! "They live solely to steal fries from the innocent."  
  
"Why'd they attack me?!" Rude little creatures.  
  
Three shrugged. "Who fucking knows? Maybe they like your hair. They're unknowable little shits." Jerks. Eight didn't trust them at all. She hissed out a curse at them and lowered herself to hide behind Three to avoid the little monsters. Thankfully, they made a turn into a nearby tunnel, and the birds were left behind them. There were loads of posters along the walls, stuff for concerts and advertisements, posters about missing people, bits and pieces of cool graffiti along the walls before being covered up by more posters. "Fucking hell, I always forget how long this fucking tunnel is."  
  
A loud yawn escaped Pearl. "I mean, it was supposed to be part of the big Anti-Flood defenses back when the sea levels were higher." Wait. It was? "The Reef was designed as a big storm drain, in case of flooding. The whole place is sunk into the ground, but after the city expanded and the sea levels went back down, we didn't really need it for much. Then Monsieur Jellfred Meduz came into town, remodeled the place into a market, and the rest is history."  
  
Wow... Cool! There was nothing like that back in the Valley... Hold on a second. "Pearl? What does 'Monsieur' mean?"  
  
"Mm? Oh, it's Coron for 'Mister'."  
  
"You speak another language?" Wow... Eight could barely speak this language!  
  
Pearl nodded. " _Oui, bien sûr. C'est assez facile._ " She grabbed Marina's hand and pressed a kiss to it. " _Mon amour est la personne la plus merveilleuse que j'ai jamais rencontrée._ " Both of them exchanged light laughs and a kiss. Huh. "But no, for real? It's super easy. My mom taught me, when I was like, six years old. I know... Coron, Decapod, Urchinese, Nemonian, Octarian and a few snippets of Salmoid that Uncle Opal taught me."  
  
"You're also fluent in Rich People Fuckwit Speak," Three remarked. Pearl snickered.  
  
And then, after a few minutes in that tunnel, they were back in the sunlight, at the top of The Reef and staring down at the market below. It was sunk pretty deep, several stories into the ground. Cool! Several ramps led down into lower areas, with a large bridge to divide the gap in the center. There were several small walls and tables and benches scattered all over the place, and several children darting around on weird vehicles... Like planks with wheels and handles and stuff. Weird. "Okay, how are we doing this?" Marina asked suddenly. "Because I just remembered, I've only been here a few times in the last year."  
  
Pearl shrugged. "I guess we just wander for a while, until we find something to hold all the clothes that Eight got? Or something like that." Yeah. Plan. Pearl had a good plan, in that it was the only plan that they had. "A clothing rack or something. Yeah. I don't even use drawers anymore."  
  
"No, you just throw your clothes wherever you feel like," Marina accused.  
  
"What?! N-No I don't!" Everybody knew the truth, Pearl. It didn't help that Marina had posted a picture of their house to cheer Eight up back in the Metro. It was enough of a mess that Eight had promised to never visit until it was cleaned up. She'd been told that Pearl decided, spontaneously and out of the blue in no way influenced by anything at all ever, to clean up the house right then and there. "I don't! You're the messy one!"  
  
"Uh _huh_."  
  
"You are!"  
  
They would have started on their quest, but were ruthless distracted by something wonderous and beautiful. "Marina? Is that what I think it is?" A familiar sight in a foreign land. Something to clutch to with all her might.  
  
"It is, Eight. Come! We must explore!"  
  
A store full of technology and gadgets!   
  
She just barely ignored the surprised shout from Three, and a resigned sigh from Pearl. "Just roll with it dude, they're gonna spend _ages_ in here."  
So the store was named... Rick Smith? Nick Smith? Something like that. Eight honestly didn't care what the name of it was. But what she did care about... Was the technology! Everything was so loud, and electrical, and noisy but oh, it felt so welcoming! Though probably not as welcoming to Eight as it was to Marina, who seemed to just kind of float inside. Still cool though! "Oooh, it's all so techy! What is all of this stuff?! It's so beautiful!" There were little squares with black screens like her license, things that looked similar to that laptop thingamajig that Marina had the other day, big speaker-style devices with electronic displays, was this the world over heaven?! Truly, it must have been. "Marina? Am I dead? Is this what _heaven_ looks like?"  
  
Marina smiled. Truly, and honestly. "No. No, Eight. We're alive. And not only can we both survive... We will thrive."  
  
Eight was Front-Ops, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate some good tech. This... This was almost as dazzlingly hard to figure out as picking out clothes. Everything was so pretty! Where did you start?! She wanted to take a good look at everything! "I don't know where to start." She'd never know. This realm of pure beauty and light. "Marina? I. I need help."  
  
"It's fine, Eight. I will help you... In your hour of need." Marina... Truly an angel!  
  
Three sighed loudly. "What the fuck are you two talking about?" GAAAAAAASP. Three, you heretic! "It's tech. Nothing fancy or interesting about it. It just works." That. That was true... But... But it was also horribly, _horribly wrong._  
  
Eight felt her temper overflow. Three was cool, but how dare she criticize technology like that. "You don't understand... You don't understand at all! Technology isn't just _objects!_ It's a way of _life!_ A million smaller objects coming together to create a whole! The same as this city, the same as this _world_ , it's a symbol of _life itself!"_ Three did not look at all moved by this. She seemed anti-moved. Her body solidified into a mass of stone, unmoved by neither man nor time. "Any other time, I'd understand your heresy... But right now? No. No, not at all."  
  
Three kind of just looked confused while Pearl took over. "It's okay! Three's just an idiot! She didn't know at all!" Hmph. No forgiveness. None for anybody. "Eight, don't you wanna look at some tech instead of rambling at Three like an idiot?" She did, she did want to do that. Eight spun on her heel and followed Marina into the depths of the store. She vaguely heard Pearl mentioning something to Three, but she ignored it because STUFF TO LOOK AT.  
  
The first thing they looked at was a line of phones. Apparently you used them to make phone calls with people across entire cities! Across entire countries! It was so weird! You could even listen to music and play some games on them... It looked a lot like her Splat license but more stylish. Most of them were little rectangles, but a few of them looked different. One group was in the typical Squid arrow shape - that all-purpose triangle that symbolized an Inkling's head. The other group... It started normally, but rose up in a slight circle shape. It was... It was like an Octoling. "Is that..."  
  
"An Octoling shaped phone? Yup." Marina smiled. "Do you want one?"  
  
She did. She really, really did. "More than anything!" Eight breathed. It felt so light in her hands... It barely weighed _anything_ , really. Also, there was an annoying cord attached to it. But whatever! It was a phone and she wanted one. "How do I get the cord thingy off?"  
  
"Ah, well--"  
  
"You have to ask the dude at the desk to give you one. That's just there for display purposes," Pearl explained as she followed up behind them. Also, that sounded dumb. What's the purpose of having this one out then? Back at the clothing stores, you could pick out anything to wear! And this was just here as a glorified nothing? Pearl suddenly interrupted with a sigh. "I know. It's dumb. Impractical. Yes, you're right. No, it's pretty expensive. Yeah, it should be like the clothing stores." ... How did she know those questions before Eight thought them? "Marina asked the exact same questions." Oh.  
  
"Um, there is one thing though... There's three or four different kinds of the phone, though." One of them was larger than the others, while another was smaller. Another one was thinner, and one of them had an extra fancy button. She wasn't super sure of which did what. Did they all make calls? "Which one should I get? I mean... What do they do?"  
  
Marina hummed. "That small one? That's the normal model. A... Octopod A12? It's not bad, but it's not particularly great either. The bigger one is for people who do a lot of heavy duty work, construction, extreme sports, that sort of thing. Octopod S18. That's the one I have, by the way." She then waved at the other two models with no small amount of disgust. "These two, though... Consider this your first lesson on the marketing tactics of the Surface, Eight. They will save you at some point."  
  
"Right!" Eight was gonna listen as hard as she could! ... Where had Three gone?  
  
"This thinner model is an Octopod Air. It's for 'Folks with class' and 'Meetings on the go'. They use buzzwords to make it sound better. But in reality, it's nothing more than a more expensive and fragile model that just looks better." Marina scoffed. "And then there's the Deluxe Octopod. I hate it so much. The _antithesis_ of working capability. It stacks needless feature onto needless feature. The battery drains in under an hour, it's got so many features that don't work, and that button on the side doesn't work half the time because a manufacturing error gives you a fifty-fifty chance of getting one that works."  
  
That sounded insane. "Why would they make this then?! If it's so terrible, then..."  
  
"Money. Why else! I swear, nobody here on the Surface appreciates their machines enough. It's hideous! If I had half a mind, I'd--"  
  
"Reena! Do not get us banned from another tech store!" Pearl yelled sternly, in a way that seemed oddly rehearsed. Did... Did this happen often? "Do you want Eight's day to have that in it? Where you get banned from a store, and police officers have to drag you outside?" What?! Marina had been arrested once?!  
  
"No!"  
  
"Then what are you not gonna do?"  
  
"Rant about the inherent fallacies in the market," Marina replied sadly.  
  
Eight felt generally uncomfortable by this talk. Mostly because it implied that Marina had been stupid enough to both get banned from somewhere and been stupid enough to do that repeatedly. "Um... Can I get just the normal one then? I think that'll work right." It'd also get them off the topic of Marina Got Arrested And How Was She Alive at the same time, which was useful for Eight's purposes. Her purposes of the evil plan... To never have an awkward conversation, _EVER AGAIN!_ **_MWAHAHAHAHAHA!_**  
  
Evil Plans were cool.  
  
Anyways... Reading the little card thingy next to it... The Octopod A12 features the most advanced LCD in a smartphone - a 6.1 inch display with industry leading colour accuracy and an innovative backlight that allows the screen to stretch across the entire device. A breakthrough 12-megapixel camera system with multiple photo modes, filters and depth control. Water resistant, heat resistant, shock proof, and armed with the GateOS 12 - the most advanced mobile operating system - make this the most personal phone ever created by Gate Industries. Key features included... Everything just mentioned above. What was the point of this feature list?  
  
The S18 was mostly the same, but with a 'Heavy Duty Casing' to prevent damage. It also came with... Oh. Oh, Eight changed her mind. She wanted the S18. It came with a portable charger. What the heck was up with Surface technology - how did they... According to this, it was something called a solar charger? It charged up the battery in direct sunlight... It'd probably need a little tinkering to make it perfect, but the idea alone was enough to sell Eight. This one. She wanted this one. Pearl finished lecturing and looked at the S18 that Eight was staring at. "This one?"  
  
"This one. I can feel it. In my hearts, Pearl. In my soul." It was the perfect method of functionality over form - it was nice to own pretty things, but Eight would always hold a special place in her heart for the kind of machine that was just a brick with buttons. Practicality would always win out over style, even if that was a close race. "It's so useful. A solar charger... Can you even _imagine_ all the uses for this thing?! It'd be so useful! OH! What if I got a solar charger, but modified it so it worked... With anything. I would be a _god._ "  
  
"Of having a solar charger?" Pearl asked dumbly. Like a dumb person.  
  
"Yes," Eight replied. Because solar chargers... Were the future.  
  
Marina smiled. "So the S18?"  
  
"Yup!"  
  
"Gotcha," Marina replied as she tapped something into her phone. "We're doing the order on the site, and then picking it all up in store the moment it transfers, because it's easier than having to remember the model make and name." Ah. Cheating at shopping. Eight didn't think it was possible. But then, Eight wasn't a techsavvy witch of the compytah realm like Marina was, so perhaps it was just some form of ancient wizardry or witchcraft. "Now then... Onto my realm of power." Oh! Oh, were they going to talk computers? Eight wasn't the greatest with those things, but she could totally manage.  
  
So according to Marina, Octarians had better computers, but lacked the parts to truly customize them. Eight didn't know much about computers, but... Customizing a laptop took effort and skill. "Right... So... Does the original computer matter much? I mean, if we're going to make it better than the standard?"  
  
"Yes and no. We're mostly getting you a computer just so you can do things. We'll get you another one later to play around with," Marina explained. Made sense.  
  
Eight wasn't totally sure of which one she wanted. Like... They were all kind of the _same?_ They seemed to come in two shapes - there were the big ones that were just a vidscreen attached to a stand, and there were the smaller ones that were a vidscreen that folded down onto a keyboard. She knew that the smaller ones was what Marina and Three had... A... Laptop? Was that right? Okay... Time to do some hunting. According to all the little markers and stuff, most of this had come out in the last year. Geeze... Talk about wasteful. You could make a supercomputer with all this stuff.  
  
Hm. Hmm. Hmmm. It was all... "Too clean... Too fancy," she grumbled to herself. Where were all the _bricks_ , darn it?! This was intolerable. Forget all the fancy stuff. Something good. Old. Practical. If she got that, then she'd totally be able to focus on this more efficiently. But all of this stuff was just blurting out words at her, like she understood what any of them meant. Processors, motherboards, bluh! Where were the N-Boosters? The Datacores? The cupholders? This display of computers was a sham. "I need a _brick_. A good, solid, decent brick."  
  
Marina sighed. Like anybody in Sci-Ops did when you told them that. Dorks. Losers. Amateurs. "Eight. Bricks are functionally useless."  
  
Eight very bravely resisted the urge to scream at Marina. "No. Bad Marina. The entire _point_ of a brick is that it's pure function with no frills. It is function in purest form." And every soldier's dream. Sure, she was on the Surface now, and she could get fancy stuff. But this was all... Bleh. A different word from Bluh, don't confuse them. Bleh. All just bits of plastic with a computer in it. She wanted fancier! Wow, was she getting spoiled. Listen to her. Like a noble from Central. Blah blah blah, I want something fancy! Being on the Surface was a rush! "Besides. If I'm going to get something with a few bells and whistles, I want all the bells and whistles. You understand? I'm not going to waste time welding them on later. It's a waste of time and resources."  
  
Pearl laughed. "You don't have to weld bells and whistles on." What? Of _course_ you do. Otherwise they fall off! Bolting them on would waste bolts!  
  
Inklings could be _very_ stupid sometimes.  
  
Well... If she had to pick anything... And she got the impression she wouldn't be leaving here alive if she didn't... It'd probably be a good idea to look at the descriptions on the board thingies. This one looked nice, what if... Bluh. No. It was one of those Air models. Nevermind. Uh... Oh, what about that one? No, that one didn't have enough... Memory. Whatever that was. Computers didn't have _memory_. They had data. Maybe that one over there? Mmrpgh, the display wasn't big enough! How were you meant to see anything on something that small?! This store was weird.  
  
"Marina, I can't figure out which one is the best here. None of them have a Datacore." Seriously. Surface technology was sophisticated, but all the words were wrong. "I can't use a computer if it doesn't have a Datacore on it. I'm not a crazy person." She wasn't a hipster. Nor was she one of those crazy religious guys from Sector 4. Who hated machines? Who grew up in a Dome and then hated machines? Luddites were super weird, and would always remain super weird.  
  
Marina suddenly paused and looked guilty for a long, long moment. Eight didn't care for when people paused and looked guilty for long, long moments. It made her feel stressed that she'd missed something. "... Did I forget to tell you?" Marina, what did you forget to tell Eight? Be honest, Marina. What did you forget? Eight was going to be very upset if it was something incredibly major and useful. "Um. So. Eight. How... _Familiar_... Are you with computers again?" She was familiar with them enough to use, fix and maintain one. Anything more than that, like with coding and stuff? Beyond her.  
  
"I can fix one and use one. Why?"  
  
Marina winced. Not good. "Well. Um. There. Um. There are... Equivalent parts... To an Octarian computer here on the Surface, they're just, um. Called different things?"  
  
... Eight _very kindly_ did not punch Marina for misleading her for the better part of six minutes. She thought that was a very kind and generous action. "Marina."  
  
Pearl thought this was hilarious. "Oh my god. Reena, did you seriously forget about all that crap?" Yes, she did, Pearl. Please stop laughing, it isn't funny. Well. It's a little funny. But not _too_ funny. More... There's a word for it, but words are hard and she doesn't want to think of it right now. Shut up, she's not a lazy butt, she just doesn't care right now. "Seriously? Wow. Y'know, she spent like, a year learning how to use stuff up on the Surface. I have no idea how she forgets shit like that."  
  
Ignoring that. "Marina. What do you mean. By equivalent parts."  
  
Marina laughed fearfully. Good. Fear was good. "Well. Um. The, um. Y-Y'know a Datacore? Up here on the Surface, it's called a processor. The N-Booster is, uh, kind of called RAM? Or Random Access Memory?" What. So. So literally everything she'd been shaking her head at actually meant something. Which meant she had to go look at everything again. Gosh darn it Marina. "And the, the, um, SDL? That's called a HDD up here. A hard drive. And, um, the Trans-PES? That's called a motherboard. Um? Are you mad? You're... Being really quiet right now."  
  
"I'm just learning a lot of new words today," Eight said after taking a few breaths to calm down. It was fine. She just forgot. That was all. She can be forgiven this once. "But as a consequence for not telling me this until now, Pearl is now my best friend."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"AYYYYYY!"  
  
Now that she knew what she was looking for, MARINA... She could actually find stuff that she actually wanted to get. After roughly ten more minutes, she managed to find probably the best computer in the store. Not THE best one, because the best would be modified out to heck by her personally, but y'know. One that actually worked. She'd fix it later. The computer she ended up getting was called a Microsquare Surface. According to Marina, it had a Sightcore 12 processor, which was top of the line. Weighed not much, just enough that you could feel the weight but not enough to hinder you. It also came in bright red, which Eight enjoyed. They really needed more stuff in red in this world, if she was honest. Red was a much better colour than purple or green or pink or orange.  
  
In addition to that, she also got a fancy Pointshifter. Pearl called it a mouse, but it'd always be a Pointshifter in Eight's hearts. "Oh, we should get you some sweet headphones! Marina's got a bunch of 'em back at home," Pearl explained. "Actually, it's more like she hoards them. But it's super useful for when you wanna listen to stuff more clearly." Ahhh, that made sense.  
  
"So what you're saying... Is get five headphones at the very least because they're helpful."  
  
"No," Pearl replied.  
  
"She is," Marina said loudly.  
  
"No!"  
  
Right. Marina thought they were useful. But considering how flimsy everything on the Surface was compared to the designed-to-last technology of the Domes... She should probably get at least ten. That made more sense. The Surface was confusing!  
  
The headphones section was pretty small, compared to the rest of the store. There were some mannequins wearing the headphones, all of which looked fairly neato and cool. None of them were as stylish as the set that Marina wore the other day, though. It didn't take too long for her to find the pair she wanted, a pair labeled as Audio Arcana M52x Over-Ear Wireless Headphones. They were sound isolating, wireless, had a built in microphone, and had a touchpad to control volume! They were almost as good as Marina's pair, only being inferior by the fact that Marina's pair were custom-made and constructed by her. The only downside to these headphones that she could see, at all, was that... "They don't come in _red!"_ Eight wailed. The only downside. Style was forever, darn it!  
  
"We could just order them off of Jellizon," Pearl muttered. "But that'd defeat the purpose of buying everything at once..."  
  
"The site says they have them, but not at this location..." Marina sighed.  
  
Mmmgh! Eight really wanted _these_ ones though! But it wouldn't be the same if they weren't in red! Her laptop was going to be red too! It had to match!  
  
Three nodded calmly. "They're out of stock. Just grab a black pair, it'll contrast well." Oh. Oh yeah. That was a good idea. Yeah, they should totally do that! Wait. Hold on. Three? When did Three get here? Had she... Had she been following them? Like a creepy... _Creeper?_ Shut up, words are hard.  
  
"... Three, when did you get here?" Eight asked. "Where have you been?"  
  
She shrugged. "Just now. As for where I've been? Having a few calls, both of which were mandatory. First off, Callie wants to poke at your memories sometime in the future. She thinks she might be able to get an idea of everything you do and don't remember in better detail." Three sighed and gave an upset look to her phone. "Also, the Captain called an old friend of his. Both of us have an appointment with a doctor this Friday, just to make sure that all that green shit didn't fuck our bodies over somehow. God knows I wouldn't put it past that place."  
  
Right. Made sense. They could make their own theories and think as much as they could, but nobody could analyze that green ink the way an actual medic could do. Also, Callie wanted to talk to Eight?! Ooooh! This was so good! Okay, well she actually wanted to talk to Eight's memories, but STILL! Callie the Squid Sister! HECK YEAH! "Callie wants to talk to me?!"  
  
"... Of _course_ that's what you'd focus on. And yeah, she does. Something about the _unconscious mind_ or some arcane mystic fuckery like that." The unconscious mind... So maybe Callie could figure out how to get past all the bits of her brain that didn't want to remember?! Truly, the Squid Sisters were a _mighty_ and _terrible_ force. Eight felt blessed that she was allowed to speak with one. How many could say that their favourite band could revive memories and break brainwashing? Not many! "That aside, I'm getting the idea that your shopping is going well?"  
  
"Yup!"  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yeah, we're almost done. We're just waiting for Marina to finish ordering all the stuff on the online store."  
  
Marina made a HMMMing noise as she tapped on her phone. "The Octopod S18 is 2369 Shells, throw in that nice red phone case for 50 Shells... The Microsquare Surface and the mouse combined are... 2050 Shells... The Audio Arcana headphones are... 349 Shells... For a total price of... 4818 Shells. Not a bad deal, honestly. My first laptop cost twice that alone!" She handed the phone to Pearl, who proceeded to tap away to confirm the purchases. "Alright, let's get your stuff!"  
  
A mere two minutes later, they were outside and leaning on what looked like a fancy bridge. Everything was in her hands. Well, the laptop and the headphones were in a fancy bag, the case was in her hand and the phone was inside that, but you know what she meant. Her claws carefully tapped at the screen, slowly as to not leave marks on the fragile screen. "I have my own phone." It was a weirdly heady rush just saying that out loud. "I have my own phone." Heh. Hehehehe. Hahaha! HAHA! She owned things! Wooo! And she had friends! And yeah, no memories, but screw memories! Everything was awesome!  
  
Marina and Pearl handed over their phone numbers, and Eight punched them in. "You can set the ringtones for every number too, hit that little cog thingy," Pearl instructed. Eight followed the instruction of the Master of Phones, and changed each one. There weren't any songs on her phone yet, so Eight changed the tone for Marina to a light piano sequence and the tone for Pearl to a rapid guitar noise. It seemed fairly appropriate. Three handed her number over as well, and Eight changed that tone to a dramatic thundercloud. That seemed appropriate as well. "Holy fuck, fucking destroyed!" Pearl had choked out through a haze of paralyzing laughter.  
  
"Fuck off," Three replied simply. She tapped something on her phone and gave Marina a smug look. Uh oh. "Oh yeah. _This_ number is important too. Make sure to ring it _immediately_ , okay?" Huh? It was another number... Um, okay? Tap tap tap...  
  
"I just hit the little green button?" she asked. Everybody nodded. Okay, here goes... Ring ring. Eight lifted the phone to her ear and waited for somebody to pick up. Marina just frowned, visibly trying to remember something. Three smiled. Somebody picked up. "Uh, h-hello? Three told me to call this number."  
  
" _Oh, hey! You're that Eight girl, right? Wow, nice to hear from you again!_ " Oh my gosh. Oh my **GOOOOSSSSH**.  
  
"C-Callie?!" EIGHT HAD _CALLIE CUTTLEFISH'S NUMBER_ **_YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**  
  
Next to her, Three grinned. "Beat _that."_  
  
"Oh, I _will,"_ Marina promised darkly.  
  
Pearl sighed. "I'm gonna go grab a drink. If you two are gonna put this much tension out, either fight to the death or make out already." Three and Marina sputtered incoherently as Pearl wandered off.  
  
" _Yup! That's my name, don't wear it out! So, how're you liking the Surface so far?_ " SHE LIKED IT VERY MUCH PRETTY LADY YUP UH HUH YUP SURFACE GOOD YEAH YEAH YEAH THREE IS BEST FRIEND BEST FRIEND. BEST. FRIEND. " _I would get Marie on the horn, but she's super biz right now. So I'm all you get for now!_ " There was no part of that sentence that Eight didn't love.  
  
"R-Really?! U-Uh, the, um, you, AHHHH! Three, I hate you! Putting me on the spot like this!"  
  
Callie laughed, and it was like angels singing. " _Did she tell you to call without mentioning my name?_ " Eight gave non-verbal reply. Speaking was kind of hard right now. " _Bluh,_ " Callie sighed, and holy heck she used the word Bluh correctly with the right intonations what was this?! " _Yeah. I figured. Sometimes she just does stuff and expects everyone to roll with it. Honestly, I think she might be part cat?_ "  
  
"What's a cat?"  
  
Callie was silent for a moment. " _Oh, honey. I got a million pictures of Judd and Lil Judd to show you._ "  
  
Today was officially the BEST EVER!  
  
Eight spent the better part of ten minutes talking to Callie, during which she was sent roughly a bajillion pictures of something small, black and white and furry. " _They're the best,_ " Callie had assured her. " _Come over sometime, you can cuddle Lil Judd! He's so cuddly and cute!_ " It looked cute! And also like a fearsome predator capable of death...  
  
"I wanna meet them!" A promise. Not just to herself, but to the universe.  
  
" _Oh, and you gotta meet Sir Bunnsalot! He's Marie's pet sea bunny!_ " Sea bunny... That sounded fluffy. She wanted to see that one. It sounded even better than the cats, whatever those were. Callie sent another picture. Over the course of ten minutes, Eight had become a master of looking at cute pictures of stuff. Don't ask how. She just _was_. Some things... Are in the _soul_. In your hearts. You just _know_. " _It's gonna be super hype! You! Me! Marie! Maybe Three, if she's not busy brooding on a rooftop! And the biggest sleepover of all time! OF ALL TIME!_ "  
  
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, _Oh My Gosh, OH MY GOSH!_ CALLIE _WANTED TO DO A SLEEPOVER! AND MAYBE MARIE TOO!_ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! "Yes! Yes yes yes!"  
  
" _Sweet! Sometime in the future though, when, like, I don't have a bajillion things to do._ " Oh, right! Oh, wait! No! Was Eight keeping Callie busy?! Callie made a few noises of exertion, followed by some metal crashes in the background. " _Mmmhmmm... Hey, in a few days, we'll hang out, right?_ "  
  
"Yeah! Totally!" No question about that! Callie had invited her to hang out, so THAT. WAS. HAPPENING! "I really want to meet you and Marie again!"  
  
Callie laughed again, the sound of angels singing echoing in Eight's ears. Not that Eight was paying _attention_ to the way that Callie or Three laughed why would you say that it'd be _creepy_ if she paid loads of attention to it no way she doesn't do _that_ it's not like their laughs are nice or anything it's just an observation that Eight was making about them nothing super interesting about the way she was thinking about them shut up. " _Yeah! We wanna talk to you again too! It'd be super nice to chat outside of work stuff, y'know? You look like you'd be loads of fun!_ " Callie is so nice! In the background of the call, a Charger round went off. Several frenzied yells rang out as well... Was that Octarian? " _Uh. Hold on. Gotta go. Call me back later, kay? We'll chat business... The business of being the Coolest Dames Around._ " Heck yeah.  
  
"Bye!"  
  
" _Catch ya on the flippity flip!_ " Callie laughed as she hung up.  
  
 _... She'd just talked to Callie Cuttlefish._ Her life was now halfway complete. She just had to speak to Marie now and everything would be so perfectly perfect, YESSSSS. Today had improved to the point where NOTHING could ruin it! Nothing at all! It was UN. RUINABLE. Go away, universal concept of Murphy's Law, nobody _likes_ you! Nothing could possibly ruin today. At all. "Did Callie say goodbye by mentioning the flippity flip?" Marina asked as Eight lowered the phone. Which was a weird thing to ask. "Because I think she's making it her catchphrase or something."  
  
"No. Last time we spoke, she told me to keep it, and I quote, 'the realest it can be, yo'." Three shrugged in genuine confusion. "I think she's having a midlife crisis or something." Oh no! Callie is having a crisis?!  
  
Pearl shrugged as she sipped at a bottle of something in her hand. "Eh. Callie's a big girl. She can handle that shit."  
  
There was a long pause before Three coughed nervously. "I have seen that woman fail at putting a sweater on. Are you _sure?_ Are you _fucking sure?"_  
  
Pearl looked less certain. "Yeah, totally." Liar. She coughed a few times before clearing her throat. Was she sick or something? "Alright! Eight. Me and Marina were grilling the fuck outta Three while you were chatting with Callie. So we actually got like, a full list of shit that we need to get for you today." Oh, really? So they didn't need to wander aimlessly wondering what to do anymore? Heck yes! This was the best development ever!  
  
Marina held up a notepad and pen. "So there's a bunch of things, mostly because apparently Three lives almost as poorly as we used to back underground." That. That did not inspire any confidence in Three. In fact, that actually erased a few grains of trust. Why would anybody live like that willingly?! "I already know the question you're thinking, it's because she's an idiot. We'll go around and grab everything, but Pearl and Three are hauling it all back to the car."  
  
Right! So where were they heading first? "I mean, Eight kinda needs a weapon wall if she's gonna be a serious Splat Battler!" Pearl said.  
  
"Do you mean an actual weapon wall, or a..." Three's voice suddenly went perky, and her entire face seemed to morph and shift into some, horrible twisted facsimile of itself. It was something akin to happiness, but with an air of genuine fakeness beneath it. "AR 24 Weapons Wall, freshly made and patented by Who Gives A Fuck Corp! A subsidiary of Fuck Off Incorporated! We make substandard goods for obscene prices! We added an additional ten bucks because this one is BLUE! Wow! What a good price!"  
  
Marina looked extremely disturbed. "Please do not ever make that face again."  
  
Three's face resumed its usual grumpiness. "No promises."  
  
"I want the first one," Eight squeaked. Not letting Three make that noise any longer than she had to.  
  
Marina nodded and tapped something on her notepad. "Sure thing. I'll make you a proper one. A mix of Octarian sensibilities with Inkling materials. It'll be great! Not to mention, much easier to keep clean than the ones in Sector 2." Oh, tell her about it. First time Eight ever messed up on patrol, she'd had to clean every weapon rack in the Outpost she'd been stationed at... All fifty of them. Alone. Those things just seemed to collect dust and grime like nothing else. And Salmonid guts, from. Y'know. Before Octavio made the Deal with them.  
  
Salmonid slime and muck just always seemed to grow back somehow, even when you cleaned it away completely...  
  
Ignoring that. Because Salmonids were. _Ick._ "Outta bamboo, or steel?" Three asked. "Bamboo always has that lightness to it, y'know."  
  
"Was thinking just a general wood base, maybe some re-enforced steel mesh," Marina replied.  
  
"Mm. Make sure Eight isn't allergic to it."  
  
"I'm not an imbecile."  
  
"Sure act like it," Three replied sharply. Both Marina and Three were grinning for a moment, like they were enjoying all the banter. Then they suddenly remembered _who_ they were talking to, and whoops! Those smiles got turned upside down real quick, didn't they? With a sudden shrug, Three turned so her back faced the three of them. "Eight probably doesn't want to eat from decade old spoons and forks, so I'm off to go buy my bodyweight in kitchenware." With that, Three jogged away. Eight watched her for a moment, watching as Three stopped for about a minute, sighed dramatically, and then walked back over. "I forgot that we're all going to the same place."  
  
Marina groaned. "I _really_ don't understand how you actually beat DJ Octavio when you're the biggest mess I've ever seen. And that includes Pearl."  
  
"I'm just good like that," Three boasted. It seemed like that shouldn't really be something you boast about, but maybe Three was just weird like that. Nevertheless, they made their way to a large store that went by the name of Reefery. Eight didn't get what the name was, but it made Pearl snicker like she'd just heard a dirty joke for some reason. Apparently Marina and Three got the joke, but thought it was dumb, since they just gave Pearl a look that wasn't impressed. "Anyways. If anybody needs me, I'm going to purchasing every single piece of kitchenware they have." With that, Three wandered into the store.  
  
It was pretty... Cluttered. There were just boxes and boxes of stuff everywhere! It was really disorientating, if she was honest. "Why is all this stuff just lying around everywhere?" Eight asked. It was like the exact opposite of that electronics store, where it'd been clean and organized. "Wouldn't it be easier to organize if you put all of these boxes onto a shelf or a row or something?" This all seemed way too messy to use as a store...  
  
Pearl shrugged. "Actually, it's the most efficient method to sell stuff here. The Reef is a real popular place to hang out, so this place goes through stock like that!" She snapped her fingers on the last word, emphasizing it with a serious look. "They sell so much, it's not worth doing anything other than stacking the boxes. It's gone so quick, there's no way they can justify doing it." Oh. Really? That sounded really terrifying. Hey, I'm done with this thing! NOPE. Here's a million more things.  
  
The four of them split up almost immediately, Marina diving into the back of the store, Three heading towards a wall covered in what... Looked like Salmonid tools? And Pearl dragged Eight over to a stack of boxes with pictures on them. They looked... Sparkly? "What are these? They look like... Wires." Wires with little bulbs attached to all of them... According to the box, they were called fairy lights? Why were these important?  
  
It took a moment before Pearl spoke. "Reena used to be scared of the dark. It'd freak her out faster than _anything_ else in the world. So I bought some of these, hung them up in her room... First time since she came to live with me that she slept right." Pearl shifted her golden eyes to Eight and smiled. "I don't want you to have nightmares. Kamabo was enough for you. So... Pick a few boxes. We'll figure out whatever makes you the most comfortable." ... Eight didn't know what she'd done to deserve such good friends like this.  
  
Hmmm... Well, she did like the golden yellowy ones. "These ones! These ones are cool! They're the brightest ones!" The box said that there were roughly 150 of them, which seemed pretty good. Aaaaannddd maybe those ones? They were silvery white and matched fairly well with the gold ones. Plus, there were enough of those ones to make 300 when combined with the gold ones. "These ones too! Can I get both of them please?"  
  
"Yeah, sure!" HECK YEAH. "Get a whole bunch!" Wait. For real?! In that case... Eight grabbed another pair of boxes to match the ones she'd already gotten, three others that were fairy lights but were rainbow coloured, some white ones that were shaped like fancy stars, some that were in pretty shapes that were called snowflakes, some that had big obvious lightbulbs on them, aaaand that was it, really. It was about like, twenty boxes in all? She'd ask Three if they could string them around where Eight slept later.  
  
"What are these usually for, though?" They all had a picture of a snazzy looking tree on them. Lots of baubles and flashy ropes and lights. It kind of looked like the December Celebrations, but more excess. After fighting Agent Three two years ago, Eight had never really bought into the whole 'Inklings are lazy and hedonistic' thing, because. _No._ But that tree looked like there was far too much thought into decorating it rather than doing something constructive.  
  
"Oh, that?" Pearl grinned widely. "They're usually used for Squidmas trees!"  
  
... Squidmas? "What's Squidmas? Is it like the December Celebrations?"  
  
"Dunno. Marina's never told me about any of that stuff, really." There was a moment where Pearl looked down at her feet sadly. Maybe she was upset that she thought Marina didn't trust her enough? "Mmrgh. Anyways. Every December 26th, you get together with all your friends and family, and have a gigantic party! Food, music, games, all that good shit. Oh! And you leave presents under the Squidmas Tree, so that your friends can open stuff that you know they'll love!" Oh! That sounded really nice!  
  
Much better than the December Celebrations... "I see. So it's not at all like the December Celebrations at all, then..."  
  
Pearl looked at her. "What is it? Marina mentioned something like Octivus a while back..."  
  
Hm. How to describe it to an Inkling? "Well, the December Celebrations are a month long affair. We survived another year in our underground prison, _go us_. I'm not sure how the civilians handle it, but in the military... There are competitions in every Sector - stuff like shooting galleries, obstacle courses, weapons handling, things like that. Whoever ranks in the top 100 of each gets nominated for a promotion." Eight had been fairly good at those. Not great, but good. "The 25th was Octivus. You were allowed to requisition four items - one for your three squadmates, and one for your Captain. Things like hairpins and socks and stuff. In the morning, you shared gifts, were given five hours of free time, and then returned to work. The Captain got me some gloves once. They were nice."  
  
There was a long pause as Pearl gave her an unnerved look. "That's... _No_ , that's... Eight, that's not a celebration. Was there any nice food, any games?"  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
Pearl shoved the boxes she was carrying into one arm - which was an impressive show of strength, by the way. Impressive for somebody with no muscles - and then slipped her free hand into Eight's. She squeezed it tightly in a way that made Eight feel... Safe. Weird. "Eight. You are gonna get a perfect Squidmas, okay? Trees and presents and gifts and music and fun." She sounded really angry for some reason. "You're gonna be happy as _shit_. Got it? No frets or worries."  
  
Eight smiled. "Thank you, Pearl."  
  
"... Ugh, alright. Enough of this sappy shit. Come on, let's go grab Marina and Three."  
  
After a few minutes, they managed to find Three deep in an kitchenry jungle, arms full of odd Salmonid tools and machines. Why the Surface sold those at all was beyond her - didn't everyone hate Salmonids? She saw some pots, a frypan, a bunch of knives, forks and spoons... It kind of looked like Three had stolen an entire Salmonid barracks armoury. "Hey. I am carrying _so_ much shit right now. Got everything I need to make a proper meal." Huh? But didn't Three say that cooking was awful? "God, I haven't cooked for anybody in ages. This'll either go fucking _great_ or awful as _shit_. Suppose it'll be _entertaining_ , even if I do fuck it up."  
  
"Sure you got enough shit there?" Pearl asked.  
  
Three shrugged. "Look, all I got in my own apartment is twenty paper plates, a microwavable bowl and some old cutlery. If Eight wants to stay with me, then she at least deserves to eat off something that isn't shit." Oh. Three cared that much? Wow. She suddenly glared at Eight dangerously. " _You. Stop that_. I can. Fucking see it in your brain. Bubbling up through the _goddamn_ cracks. It isn't because I care. It's common fucking decency." Oh. Still, it was nice!  
  
"I have to ask though," Eight interrupted as she leaned in and grabbed one of the little packs that had the knives and forks in them. "All of this stuff looks nice, but it all looks a bit too much like Salmonid weaponry to me."  
  
Eight did not consider herself an expert on emotions, or body language. That said, it was fairly clear to Eight that she'd just stepped on a _considerably large button_. The look she was getting reminded her far too much of the fight with Agent Three she'd survived not a few days ago. In a slow, far too smooth motion, she placed everything she had on a stack of nearby boxes and leaned in, far too close for Eight's comfort. "You're tolerable. So first and last warning. Salmonids _do not_ have weapons. That implies they can _think_ beyond their own appetite. They're _mindless_ _cannibal_ _**savages**_ and the sooner they're _wiped_ from the face of the planet, the better. You're free to have your own opinions on the matter. Just know that in my home, they _aren't. Fucking. Welcome._ "  
  
... Right. "Understood," Eight replied seriously. Three nodded and picked up all the... Stuff she had, and pushed past. "I'm sorry about that. I've just never seen any of that stuff outside of what a Salmonid carries." She didn't quite get the full idea of why Three hated Salmonids so much, but it was definitely understandable. The few interactions with them that Eight remembered had been... Eventful. Even with the Deal that DJ Octavio had made with them, they'd always been unsettling enough that Eight dreaded any assignment that took her near the Swamp Pipes.   
  
Three stopped. Pearl looked at her incredulously. "Fucking really?" Pearl asked. "I mean, even ignoring whatever the fuck that was with Three, you've never seen a fork before? How'd you eat?"  
  
"Chopsticks. And we had recyclable bowls, made out of a GESL." She saw Pearl muttering to herself about what the heck a GESL was, while Three just kind of shook her head and looked furious, in that same way she did whenever Eight mentioned anything about how the Domes worked. "It was nice! I mean, Nutrition Blocks were always pretty bad, but chopsticks were easy to use! Not to mention, they cut down on actual injuries during any infighting. Hard to stab somebody with a rounded chopstick."  
  
Pearl shrugged. "I mean, I'd debate _that_ , but sure."  
  
"Have. Have you tried _that?"_ Three asked, sounding disturbed. Really? After that nightmarish speech, she thought she had the right to be the most disturbed one here? "Have you tried to stab somebody with chopsticks?"  
  
Pearl gave Three a look. "You don't want anybody poking into _your_ history? Don't poke into mine."  
  
They ended up meeting Marina at the counter. "Hey! What took you guys so long?"  
  
"Three had a creepy rant about Salmonids and I taught Eight the true meaning of Squidmas!" Pearl explained in a very not-explaining way. Marina gave a look that demonstrated how completely done she was with non-explanations, and how she'd really like a proper explanation. "No, for real. Three got pissed off because Eight said that all the kitchen shit she had was Salmonid gear and gave a really creepy rant, and Eight asked me what Squidmas was. Also, Octivus is officially the lamest and least fun holiday that I've ever heard of."  
  
"It's not too bad," Marina defended weakly. Pearl gave her a Look. "A-Anyways, I got the stuff to make Eight a proper weapons wall!" Oooh! Really?! Marina held up four shafts of a weird green material. It kind of looked like the GESLs in the Imperial Palace? The bamboo stuff. There was also some spooled wire, what looked like a large pinboard and some weapon wall hooks. Neat!  
  
So... Eight wasn't totally sure of how she'd turn all that into a suitable weapons wall, but Marina was definitely capable of managing it. "Bamboo for stability?" Three asked.  
  
"Yup. I'll carve some holes in the bamboo, weave the wire through, glue the pinboard to it..." Marina nodded firmly. "It'll be great. Now, let's ring this stuff up." Awesome! What was not awesome was the weird look that the cashier gave them as she stared at the stack of fairy light boxes. That was not great at all. But whatever! They were out of there, and they had all this stuff! The cashier person put it all into some bags, which... Eight hoped were biodegradeable? Pearl and Three took both and headed out the door first.  
  
Bluh. After spending so long in there, the sun was like an old friend. Mmmm! Warmth! Aaah, Eight could stand out here all day. Really, she could. Unless there was an air conditioning store in The Reef, in which case she would _never see the sun again_. It was honestly a big tossup, and Eight wasn't sure which one was better. "Air conditioning? Please. Fans are where it's at."  
  
A vaguely upset noise erupted from Pearl's throat. "Three, do you _actively_ search out the worst stance on any given topic, or do you just _arrive_ there naturally?"  
  
"Neither, because my stance on this is fucking great."  
  
"No, it's not," Eight replied sharply. Three looked gutted. This, for whatever reason, was enough for Marina to burst into wild laughter. "Air conditioning. It's the best." Eight put on her best disapproving face and looked directly at Three. Make her know that her opinions were wrong. Eight had seen electric fans back in the Domes, and you know what? They _sucked_. They only made tiny tunnels of faint breezes, instead of beautiful room-filling cold gusts. While Three was obviously not a complete idiot, she was clearly wrong about this topic.  
  
Pearl's voice suddenly skyrocketed. "OUT VOTED! Sorry Three! You're factually wrong."  
  
"No, I'm right, I'm just letting you all keep your false opinions." She held up the bag full of cooking equipment and shifted. "So. Are we taking this back to the car yet?"  
  
Both Pearl and Marina gave Three a weird look before bursting into hysterical laughter. Eight didn't quite get it. After a minute, Marina stopped. "Oh, Three. You are just... Just, aren't you?" Both of the musicians laughed again. "No, no you aren't. You and Pearl have to carry everything, don't you?" Ah. Three gave a put-upon shrug and leaned against what seemed like thin air. The lack of reaction didn't seem to be what Marina wanted, so she looked at Eight with a serious look. "Next up, EelB Games!"  
  
EelB Games was a weird place. It had loads of racks and shelves everywhere, covered in small rectangular boxes. There was a cardboard cutout of a figure covered head to toe in greenish rectangular armour with the word HALO written above it. A few boxes with pictures of machines were stacked against the walls. A few vidscreens were mounted on the corners, and some... Eight guessed they were children? Were fiddling with some weird devices. Also, every single surface that could have something attached to it was covered in a bright red sticker that said SALE SALE SALE SALE.  
  
It was pretty small, honestly. "Games are super important," Pearl explained seriously. Just behind her, Three was slowly shaking her head as she maintained eye contact with Eight. So Pearl was just lying about this, like she had about pillow forts? "They keep you from getting super bored! Not to mention, they're fun as shit! Also, useful when you get sick and your girlfriend stops you from leaving bed." That was interestingly specific. Also... Bored? How could you ever get bored?!  
  
It was so much FUN up here! Maybe it was because Pearl had spent her entire life here that she could get bored or something? Food for thought. "You can get bored," Three explained. "Really easily. It will rain, and you won't be able to go Splat Battling. Or shopping. Or anything outside at all." ... Oh. That sounded dangerous! So she'd be trapped inside, without anything to do?! Games really _were_ important... Alright then, Eight would look around.  
  
Eight looked at one of the big bins in the center of the store first. It was filled with the fancy rectangular boxes, and was called, according to Pearl, the "Graveyard of Bargain Gaaaammeeesss, woooo!" Eight had no idea if she was trying to sound spooky, but if she was, she was failing. Nothing was scary anymore... She'd tried chocolate. Hmm. Something called Ragen SFFL 19 for XBox One, LEGO Wonder Superheroes for a... Squidtendo Switch? Cod of War for... What was that? These letters were weird. P... Z or S... And that was maybe a four? Bluh. Twelve copies of HALO 5 for Xbox One... A literal stack as tall as Eight's arm was long of a game called Decapod: Become Crustacean for that weird Pwhatever, with a large coating of dust on it. A few copies of something called Sonic Boom for... Wii? It had a weird blue thing next to it. Hm. None of this seemed particularly interesting. Eight wandered over to a nearby shelf, with loads of the tiny boxes stacked horizontally.  
  
Oh! That one seemed nice! It had some weird creatures on the cover... Some fluffy things, some trees, some triangular grass... Animal Crossing New Leaf. Eight wanted this one! Ooh, and that one had a picture of a fancy lady on it. Cooking Mama or something. Eight decided to just throw out any sense of taste and just pick the games that had the neato covers. Fire Emblem Awakening... that one looked pretty, Eight wanted that one too. Oooh! Squidtenaxolotls! The creature on the front looked so cute! It was this pale pink colour, and it had these little pink fin thingies... Yeah! Okay, that one? She had to get it. It had a pretty pink robot thing on it! Kahawai Planet Robobot! Yeah, that one that one that one! Oh, and all these ones labeled Pokemon had a bunch of cool creatures on them! Gotta get those! Oh, and something called Maguro & Louvar: Dream Team! Yeah, that too!  
  
"Um. Eight?" Eight turned, ignoring the way that the precarious stack of game boxes in her arms tilted. Pearl was standing just behind her. "You, uh. Really want those 3DS games, huh?" ... Three-Dee-What games? Eight grabbed the top box off her stack and looked at it. Oh yeah. Just next to the name of the game on the side, there was a little symbol there. 3DS. Huh. She didn't know that Three had stuff named after her. She nodded. "Do... Do you want me to hold those for a sec, or..." Hm. Hmm. Hmmm. Yeah. Eight handed over the stack and wandered over to another rack.  
  
Hm. The Pwhatever shelves had basically nothing on them. There was... Something called Kingdom of Hearts the Dark Seeker Saga. It had some cool people on it. Uh, there was... Oh, that game she and Pearl had played earlier! Kelp Fighter V Ultra... Eight wanted it. Revenge must be obtained. Oh! That one had a fancy orange lizard thingy! Dee-gee-mon... Cyber Sleuth? Weird title, but okay. Gravity Rush Collection, gotta get that... Monster Hunter World looked neato. Maybe... Persona 5 looked weird, and Eight wanted to see the first four games, but it was _red_ , so Eight was legally obliged to look into that one. Something called Like A Seadragon... Yeah, that one too. Eight handed those off to Pearl too before darting off to another shelf.  
  
There was nothing of interest on the Xbox One at all, so Eight moved over to a different shelf. Hmm... there wasn't much else interesting in here at all. "Bluh. I thought this'd be way more interesting," Eight mumbled to herself. Unless... What were those machine boxes? Some of them said Pwhatever on them, others said 3DS... Did she maybe need those or something? "Hey, Pearl?"  
  
"Yeah? What's up?" asked the giant stack of games that was waddling along behind her.  
  
"Do I need these things?"  
  
The stack of games nodded. "Yeah, totally. Otherwise, all these games are just a bunch of discs and carts, y'know? The consoles are super important!" ... Why were those consoles? They didn't seem to have any buttons or anything on them. Not to mention, they seemed mass produced. They didn't control anything, so why were they... Bluh. The Surface was confusing as always. "Let's see... Hmhmmm... So a 3DS, and a PS4? Yeah, sure. What colours do ya want?" Uhmm... Red and red! The best colours, obviously! Pearl nodded like she'd been expecting that, and Eight grabbed two of the machine boxes.   
  
"PEARLIE!" Bluh! Marina just seemed to phase into existence with a box held in her hands. A guy wearing a weirdly patterned shirt and sunglasses, with a weird board in one hand and a fancy glass with a bit of fruit impaled on the rim. Despite how shabby they looked, it was oddly _ominous_ to look at. On top of the box, in glittery gold and black letters, it said _DYING SKIES ONLINE_. And on the bottom of the cover, it said _PARADISO STARLIGHT RESORT_. "Please?! I haven't played in _ages!_ It's expansion six! They introduced the new Astrology skilltree, please?! Come on, Pearlie! I love you! Please?!"  
  
Huh. A game? "That looks like fun," Eight asked. "What's it about?"  
  
Every single trace of sadness and pleading vanished from Marina as stars filled her eyes. "DSO is a massively multiplayer online RPG!  You fight against the forces of evil, the King Terra Firma, and explore the stars!" Ooh! Sounded interesting. "You get to make your own character, and fight off monsters to save the universe! It's super fun! There's strategy and math and stuff! It's super cool!"  
  
Pearl rolled her eyes. "It's grindy as _hell_ , dude. It's boring and repetitive. Once you've played a couple hours, you've played the _entire game_. It just keeps repeating with a new coat of paint." Oh. Well, that sounded kind of... Still interesting? Eight kind of wanted to try it. "Marina spent like, three months doing nothing but playing it until I made her uninstall it. Couldn't get her to jam out with me, go out on dates... didn't even shower or anything." What?! _Eww!_ Marina, what the heck?! Showering was super important! It meant you didn't smell, and therefore, was essential for stealth!  
  
"Marina, I'm disappointed in you." Marina's eyes bugged out like she'd been shot. "Cleanliness before anything else! What else have you forgotten?!" Clearly, this game was pure evil if it made Marina forget one of the first lessons they'd ever learned in the military...  
  
Three gave an odd look. "What's so weird about not showering?" Gross. Also, Three, you weirdo.  
  
Marina pointed her arms in Three's direction. "I can't _believe_ I agree with her, but yeah! And Eight, trust me, showering takes up so much time. You actually get hot water for more than sixty seconds up here, it's absurd." Wait, what? Hot water?! Ooh. Eight... Eight got that, actually. Heck knows she'd spend more time in the shower if there was hot water... "And even then, it was worth it! It's so much fun! Please?! You can get it too! The expansion comes with ten free trial codes, so you can even try it out on your new computer!"  
  
A tired sigh escaped Pearl's throat. "No. It's not happening." Hmph. The _fool_. Eight joined Marina and bared her teary eyes. "Rrgh! N-No! I mean it! No MMOs! Three, give me a hand here!"  
  
Three shrugged. "I don't get the big deal. Never played an MMO before. Dad always used to say that I should play better games, like Spyro or Maguro. I picked Kahawai Super Star Ultra, because I had very fine tastes." A moment later, Eight knew that they'd won. Heheheh... Take that, Pearl. Games were all hers! Mwahaha! "Besides, much as I hate her fucking guts, Marina's a grown woman. She's allowed to play what the fuck she wants."  
  
"Hah! Outvoted, Pearlie!"  
  
"Pleeeeaaase, Pearl?"  
  
"Yeah, come on already. Don't be a fuckface."  
  
"FINE. But when you all get addicted to _subpar_ MMOs, don't blame me." Pearl sighed. "Rohuscape is way better anyways."  
  
YEAH! Woo! Marina laughed victoriously. By the time they got to the counter, Marina had grabbed two other boxes - expansions that she didn't own yet, she explained - and Three picked up a few of those 3DS games and a blue 3DS to go with them. "Pokemon games come in pairs. Version exclusives, and some Pokemon only evolve when traded. So I'm getting you a second one."  
  
Three was thinking of stuff like that the whole time...? "Aw, thank you, Three!" Eight wrapped her arms around Three in a tight hug! Three made some spluttering noises, and turned bright neon orange. Hm. She didn't look too great. Eight let her down and dragged Pearl and Marina over to the counter. Three, almost paralyzed, followed shortly after. She wondered when she'd get a chance to mess around with all of this stuff!  
  
"Well! The! You! Ugh! Eight, don't do that!"  
  
"Do what? Give you hugs?"  
  
Three looked _greatly_ conflicted on this matter before giving a greatly overwrought and dramatic sigh. Eight took that to mean that Three did not mind the hugs.  
  
It was surprisingly expensive getting all the games - they were like, sixty Shells each! Not to mention that the... Consoles? Were like, 500 Shells each as well. Oh well! It was super cool! Pearl did a weird full body motion. "Aight! We gots a full stock of games! Eight, we're almost done here!" They were? Awesome! Eight couldn't wait! "Now we just gotta check out Inkbargains..." Inkbargains? That sounded like a super cool store!  
  
As it turned out ten minutes later, Inkbargains was not a super cool store. It was anti-cool.  
  
It was so... BORING.  
  
The ceiling was white, and tiled. It had those long electric lights that reminded her of the barracks back in Sector 2, and a floor with white tiles so identical, it just kind of looked like one big stretch of white space. Rows of furniture spread out before them, beds and cabinets and desks, as far as the eye could see. There was a back wall, she could see it - but it never seemed to get any closer no matter how fast she ran or walked. This was a space truly undefineable and unknowable by time and space. It'd take all too long to find a way out of this terrifying alternate reality...  
  
At least, that's what it _felt_ like to Eight. Pearl was helplessly enraptured by the idea of staring at beds, especially the fancy ones with the headboards and all the fancy... Poles connected to a big frame on them and stuff. They were weird. Three was also held captive in this ensnaring web, observing multiple chairs with big weird cushions on them. "Hey, question?" Eight asked. "Did we make sure that whatever we get can actually _fit_ into Three's apartment?"  
  
"I looked up Flatfish Apartments," Pearl replied. "Checked the measurements for an empty apartment, so I'll know if it's too big." Oh. Cool! Thank you, Pearl!  
  
"There are a couple of different kinds of beds for us to look at," Marina noted. "Alright then... Let's go figure out what kind of bed you want, Eight." Alright! Eight had no idea what a proper bed was actually like, or what it was supposed to feel like, but she'd find the best one there was! At least she had some friends to help her out with figuring out what the heck kind of bed she should get.  
  
The first bed was really familiar. It looked a lot like her old bunk in Sector 2, actually! A plain, barebones two-tier bunkbed. The ladder was a bit overly useless, but it was just like it! "... You want to check out this bed in particular," Three asked blankly, voice devoid of her usual grumpiness or snark. "We are in a store with over _sixty_ types of beds, all of which are colourful as the fucking rainbow, and you... You picked the silver military style bunkbed."  
  
"It does look a lot like what we had back in the Domes," Marina noted with... Was that disdain? Eight didn't know what Marina was emoting right now. It was kind of like nostalgia? But sad. Weird. "It has a futon on it too. Eight, do you... Want to try it?" Wait. Eight was allowed to try it? That was weird! Eight shuffled forward and lied down on the bottom of the bunkbed. Hm. _Hmm_. Hmmm. It wasn't _bad_.  
  
Mmrpgh. "It's firm," Eight said aloud. "It's just like the bunks back in Sector 2. But... It's..." Mm. Rghh. _Nmph_. Why couldn't she get comfortable? It was perfectly possible, she knew from years of sleeping on her old bunk. So now... Why was it so hard to feel good here? Unless... "Three! Your dumb sofa bed thing _ruined_ bunks for me!"  
  
"Oh no, I have corrupted your mind with _decent sleeping conditions_. How _dare_ I?"  
  
Bluh. Bluuuh. Jerk. "I hate you. I used to be able to fall asleep almost instantly on a bed like this. But now I've felt other beds, and it's ruined."  
  
Three's voice could not have been drier. "How utterly _awful_. You have taste."  
  
Marina laughed. "At least you don't want to sleep on a bunk anymore. They were awful." No, they were great, but now Eight couldn't agree with that. Great. Wonderful. Amazing. Spectacular. Why was she friends with all these jerks? "I think that's an improvement! Shall we move on?" ... Bluh. Fine.  
  
The second bed was... Not a bed. It was a long strip of netting, coloured with bright yellow and dark yellow stripes. On each end, it was connected to a pair of hooks connected to some weighted poles. It was, according to Three, a hammock. It seemed _really_ flimsy. "Y'know, I've never tried a hammock before," Pearl said after a moment. She batted the loose netting with her hand a few times. It seemed really loose... No way it'd hold her entire weight! "Wonder what it's like?"  
  
The waves of contempt emanated off of Three's body. "You absolute fuckwit," she stated venomously, pointing to another hammock nearby. "Go try one immediately." Well, if Three was encouraging her. Eight tried to lean into it, but it was kind of hard? She pulled down one side and planted her butt in the middle of the netting, before swinging her legs inwards. It probably would've done well to listen to Three a bit longer, as she suddenly yelled out. "Don't put your legs in--" Eight sunk downwards with a yelp. The netting suddenly _swooped_ up around her, encasing her in a tube of netting.  
  
Pearl barely managed to breath out a few choked laughs. "B... B-Banahahah, BANANA EIGHT! She looks like a FUCKING BANANA! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!" Through the netting, Eight could just about see Pearl collapse to the ground in a heap. Okay, okay. _Very_ funny. Can Eight get out now? She pushed against the netting and forced her hand out. It would've been easy to get out except that since she wasn't actually sitting on anything, the hammock just kind of twisted beneath her. Great.  
  
Three grabbed the side and pulled it open. "Here, lemme help..." Whew! Eight pulled her legs out and balanced on the netting. Hm. "You don't like it?"  
  
"No. It's way too loose," Eight groaned. "Also, scary. I felt like I was trapped back there." Definitely not what she wanted to sleep in. _Ever_. Eight decided to hop off and take a few steps away from the hammock. Just to... Just to be safe, you know?  
  
The third bed they tried was apparently a type of bed designed by Urchins and Crustaceans - called a hutch. It was kind of like a circular mattress, but it sort of had walls that arced up to cover the whole thing, with a big hole in the center that you hopped through to get into it. It was... Um. "Eight? You okay in there?" Well. It was... It wasn't UNcomfortable. She had to curl up into a ball to fit inside, but it was... Nice. Cozy. She could get used to it. Maybe if she went into Octopus form, it'd be more comfortable?  
  
Eh. A little. The bottom of it was fine, but she couldn't lean against any of the walls! It just started tipping over if she did that. "Whoever built this thing is dumb and I don't like them," Eight explained seriously. "Seriously. Who makes a wall, and then _doesn't_ reinforce the structure? It's like, the most basic rule of construction! I need to meet who made this and have words."  
  
"I mean, most Urchins and Crustaceans just kind of sit in the middle," Marina noted. Would've been nice to know that a few minutes ago! Eight hopped out and Shifted back to her Octoling form. "So, what's the verdict on that one?"  
  
Eight stretched her arms out. Ergh. Being in there was like being back in the Metro all over again. Too cramped and tiny. "I feel like I'd rather go on patrol through the Swamp Pipes than get back into that tiny thing." No way she could sleep in there, not after feeling the absolutely luxurious feeling of getting to stretch out while sleeping. That sofa bed that Three had let her borrow was amazing! "Or go back in time and fight Three during Sector 3." Which, if she remembered rightly, was an Octarian saying roughly similar to saying you'd rather die.  
  
Marina winced. "Yeah... I figured." She paused. "Three, what was your problem with Sector 3?"  
  
"We _don't_ have ten hours to sift through my fucking trauma."  
  
Bluh. She didn't want a normal bed. From what she'd seen, they were all similar to that first steel-frame bed but just... Bigger. And wider. Like, they weren't uncomfortable. It was just... None of them exactly felt like they were great. They were fine. But... They were fine. Eight wanted something nice. Impractical. _Stupid_. Sue her, she was getting high off the sensation of freedom and cash. It was all fine, she just... Wanted more. She needed to stretch out and be able to sleep in any direction she wanted! But like. Not on something that was at all firm. Something... Big. Open. Something like...  
  
Ooh. Something like that. Eight hopped forwards a little. It was different to the other beds she'd tried so far. It was a bit thinner than a normal mattress, but wider, covered in pillows and blankets, a veritable _sea_ of comfort that just spread out in front of her. Eight ignored the voices of her companions and fell straight forwards onto the mat. Mmm... _Soft_. "Uh. Eight?" Ignore the voices, just get up into that _comfort zone_... Yeah... "... I think she likes this one," Pearl said uselessly. Eight let her eyes close and let herself drift into pure bliss...  
  
Wait. Hold on. Eight wriggled her way further in. Oh _yeah_. _There_ you go. Springy, too! Eight could totally see herself falling asleep on this thing. Heck yeah. Oh, her head just hit a pillow! Mmm mm mm! So warm. So cozy. "You know, if you get this one, any bed Three has won't be able to fit..." Marina said slowly. And... Oh. Eight didn't... She didn't want to kick Three out of her own life. That'd be rude. "So _maybe_ it'd be best if Three tried it out as _well_." Wait. What?  
  
"Oh, you fucking asshole," Three sighed. There was a sudden THWUMP beside her. Eight pried her eyes open and saw Three lying right next to her oh geeze oh man. The memory of lying right next to her last night suddenly came rushing back into her mind. Oh no. Like not that Eight was _upset_ by that it was nice and Three was nice but it was kind of _awkward_ before Three she'd never really shared a bed with _anybody_ at all and Three had these really nice eyes NOT THAT SHE WAS PAYING MUCH ATTENTION it was just something that was objectively true like the sky was blue it was _really blue_ how about we change the topic to that instead? "Eh. Not the worst thing I've ever slept on."  
  
Super blue bluer than anything blue as the pillow that Three's leg was perched on wow it was really _slender_ OH GOSH OH NO STOP STOP STOP okay um okay um okay how do we _fix this_ aaaaah why did her face feel so _hot_ it was cool in here just a minute ago! "Wow! You two look _really_ comfortable!" Marina said really suddenly. There was something in her voice... "How's it feel, being so _close_ to each other?" Oh. Oh no. Oh, this was bad. Close. Eight wouldn't mind being _close_ to Three GET OUT OF THE GUTTER oh man her brain was melting could you please _stop_ it Marina oh no oh no.  
  
Eight pushed herself up and practically lunged off the mat. "YUP I LIKE THIS ONE CAN WE PLEASE MOVE ON."  
  
A conflicted look danced across Three's face for a moment. "Ugh... Yeah, fine. Though anything we buy won't be like this - it'll need pillows and blankets." Eight was fine with that, and she'd be fine with everything, as soon as her mind stopped leaping into the gutter every ten seconds, okay, Three?! Bluuuuh! "Eight. You think you can figure that?" Yup. Sure. She could. Definitely. Anything to get her mind away from Three and back to its senses.  
  
Pearl had started to laugh like a jerk. "Oh-Oh-Oh-Kayeeheeheehee! So you wannnn...!" She collapsed to the ground in a fit of laughter. It went on for a couple of minutes until it just sort of reduced into a wheezing noise.  
  
Marina was snickering too. "So, you want a nest mat like this, huh?" Oh, so it was called a nest mat? Keep talking, Marina! This is a truly fascinating topic! "Okay! We can totally get you that!" Cool. Fine. Eight was cool with that.  
  
"What's the difference between a nest mat and a bed?" Eight was really interested in this line of questioning. _Really_ , she was. No big _reason_.  
  
Pearl gasped for air before answering. Eight didn't quite understand what was so funny. "Normal beds are usually on a frame, and the mattresses are big, so it's hard to shift them about. Most nest mats like this are super light." She kicked the nest mat Eight had been lying on a second ago. Even with Three still sitting on it, it shifted an inch or so. "It's supposed to be a big family thing, you can roll it up and move it into any room and just chill out. Plus, it comes with a remote so you can make it as hard or soft as you want." Ooooh! Adaptability! Eight wanted it even more now...  
  
"It's basically just an amped up version of the futons we used to sleep on," Marina explained. "But like, not atrociously uncomfortable." Really?! Oh, wow! She wanted it SO MUCH. But they needed all the blankets and pillows separately, huh? Eight guessed she'd go look for those. Marina visibly tapped something into her phone. "Three, you said you needed other things?"  
  
A soft grunt came out of Three's throat. "Yeah. I just throw shit wherever, but I get the feeling that'll send Eight nuts. Bookshelf, proper medicine cabinet... A proper wardrobe for her. Maybe a chair or stool or something so she has somewhere to sit other than my sofa." She shrugged. "Maybe some other stuff, but that's about it."  
  
Marina nodded. "Alright then! Let's move!" Almost seamlessly, in perfect sync, both Pearl and Marina slipped a pair of sunglasses out of their sleeves and slipped them on. Amusingly, they were the wrong colour - Marina's were pink, and Pearl's were green. About halfway through hunting for a book case - Three was leaning towards a simple four-shelf bookcase made of dark brown wood, very classy -  a thought occured to Eight.  
  
"Hey, Marina?" Eight asked. This was important.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Is there really no way to put all of this into the car?" She had an idea! Eight was the best with ideas, she really was. "What if we Inkshifted it all in? That'd work, right?" Marina stopped dead. Slowly, her entire body shifted around so she could stare at Eight. Her arms snaked out and grabbed Eight by the shoulders. It was _kind_ of creepy.  
  
Her face leaned in. "That is a wonderful idea. I don't know why I didn't think of it." Yes! Eight has the best ideas! "Pearl, how big do we need to go?"  
  
"Uh... for the nest mat? X. Any bigger, it won't fit in the room," Pearl replied. Man. Eye for measurements. "Why? What's Inkshifting?"  
  
Heh. Eight knew that look. Marina stretched her arms. "Because we're buying Eight that nest mat. And the pillows. And wardrobe. And anything else. Today! We'll _make_ it fit." A feral grin spread across Marina's face. "I can't believe that it didn't occur to me sooner. We're going to Inkshift everything into the back of the car."  
  
Marina promptly ignored questions from both Pearl and Three. Hee hee! Oh, that wardrobe looked nice! It had a neato brown finish, two doors, a little sub cabinet under the doors... Yeah! "Ooh! Three! Can I get this wardrobe? It looks nice!"  
  
"I- Yeah, sure, but- Ida, what the _fuck_ are you talking about?!"  
  
IGNORED. Roughly ten minutes later, Pearl was very confusedly paying cash up front to the clerk. "Uh. Yeah, we wanna get all this stuff."  
  
The clerk, to her credit, also looked confused. "So... You got a _plan_ to haul this stuff up from the bottom of The Reef, or..."  
  
Three interrupted. "We were hoping we could borrow your loading dock."  
  
The clerk blinked. "Uh... Can't do that, we got deliveries coming today. That said, we do got a parking garage down here? It's like, maybe two meters past the dock? I can totally take you there, if you're interested..."  
  
"That'd be fucking ace," Pearl decided as she turned to leave. "Three, head with her. I'll go bring the car around."  
  
"On it."  
  
Marina smiled wickedly. "I do love it when a plan comes together."  
  
" _What fucking plan?!_ " Three yelled angrily. "As far as I can tell, you've done _fuck all_ in the last ten minutes besides act like a scheming fuckface in some shitty anime!" Eight had no idea what anime was but she knew from the way Marina flinched that the retort cut _deep_.  
  
Marina sighed. "We're Inkshifting everything! Transport made easy." She cheerfully texted Three a list of everything that Eight had asked for. "There you go! Just pack all of that into the car!"  
  
"That doesn't fucking _explain anything,_ " Three growled, possibly more lost than she should've been.  
  
"If you actually _cared_ about the civilization you tore apart more than what weaponry they had, then it'd explain everything!" Marina replied sweetly. "Either that, or you just aren't intelligent enough to pick up on what I'm telling you."  
  
" _Fuck you._ I _like_ being a stupid shithead. It's _fun_. Ever think of _that?_ HUH? That maybe it's less fucking _stressful_ to be a dumbass? I'll be stupid as long as it fucking _suits_ me. Fucker." Three stalked off with the clerk, muttering about how stupidity was _really_ genius, as long as you looked at it the right way. Personally, Eight just thought her grudge with Marina was getting out of hand. Marina and Eight casually followed after Three, ignoring her grumbled angst. It was surprisingly easy.  
  
Honestly, Eight was surprised Marina even knew how to use Inkshifting. "Weren't you Sci Ops? This is definitely something that Support Ops would be doing, right?"  
  
"Mm. It is. But I had to figure out the mechanics in order to transport the Great Octoweapons from Dome to Dome," Marina explained. That made sense. Eight did wonder how those things managed to get out of the museum without having to tear down a billion walls. "As long as Three doesn't have a pathetic ID Mass ratio - and while I hate to give her praise, she doesn't - she _should_ be able to replicate my methods fairly easily, even for the biggest items."  
  
Hm. Made sense. "But what about ID Drift? Isn't there a chance she could lose anything she puts in there?"  
  
"ID Drift takes upwards of an hour to occur, and even then, most items lost in ID Drift usually end up hitting the proverbial bottom of whoever's keeping them." Huh. That was... Useful. "Usually, anything that does end up hitting the bottom just kind of rests there. As long as the object doesn't have a higher Mass than the person Inkshifting in the first place, then it'll just rest." Oh. That was good to know! She didn't want Three to _explode_ or anything!  
  
The employee parking was apparently a normal parking garage. She'd seen pictures of places like this from the Canyon before, but not from the Valley. It'd been just past the loading dock, with a ramp leading to the outside world. It reminded her a lot of being back underground, actually. In the good way, not the whole trapped in Kamabo way. Apparently, they'd been slow enough that Pearl had already beaten them there. Man, she was fast. Or the car was. Either or. "Alright," the clerk sighed. "Uh, you already paid, and I'm on break, so... Lemme know when you're done so I can stop caring."  
  
"Cool," Three replied. "Sorry to take up your break."  
  
"S'cool," the clerk replied before walking back into the store.  
  
Pearl stuck her head out the window of the car. "You were like, _super_ polite to her."  
  
"She hasn't insulted me or tried to dig at my mental issues. She's like, the _number one_ person in the world who I don't want beef with."  
  
"... That's fair."  
  
Marina got their attention with a sudden clap of her hands. "Alright! Shall we get started!"  
  
"I feel like you're asking me like you're the host of an early morning kids show," Three replied. "And that _rapidly_ diminishes any chances of me giving the slightest fuck about what you have to say."  
  
"Holy _shit_ , that's what that tone is! I never got it before!"  
  
"Shut up, Morgue."  
  
"Whatever, Ida."  
  
Marina pulled open the trunk and slipped into the kettle. A moment later, she hopped back out with an Ink Tank and Eight's Splattershot Jr. "Before I came out, I shot a patch onto the ground in the kettle. Now that I'm out here..." She shot a single dot of ink on the ground, reached down, and fished out a large brown bag with a strap. "Inkshift."  
  
Pearl looked mystified. Three, on the other hand... "Did. Did you just _break_ how we understand the laws of fucking physics?"  
  
"No, I _improved_ on them."  
  
"What the _fuck_ just happened?" Pearl asked. "I know you didn't prearrange that."  
  
"Inkshifting," Eight said, as Marina pulled off the Ink Tank and handed it over to Three. "Is the practice of placing an item inside of a localized Spacetime Distortion, also known as an Ink Dimension. As long as your Ink Dimensional Mass is large enough, any item with less Mass will easily fit inside of it. As such, somebody like Three should have enough ID Mass to store items inside her Ink Dimension and transport them into the kettle, neatly bypassing any sort of physical barrier like the size of the car trunk here."  
  
Both Pearl and Three were dead silent. "Well, have fun with that! Eight and I are going to move onto the next store!" Marina laughed as she tossed Pearl the Splattershot Jr. The looks on their faces implied something incredibly annoying, and that people like Marina and Eight had years ahead of them.  
  
"Did you _not_ know you could do that?" Eight asked them. They both gave a silent shake of the head. Wonderful. Eight had a lot to teach, then. Even an amnesiac like her could be useful! "Octarians have been researching this topic for _years_. We actually discovered it by researching why clothes and weapons stayed with us, even when we Shifted forms. It's half the reason we call it Inkshift."  
  
"But... Physics," Three replied weakly.  
  
"Are but nails that the hammer of progress may slam down," Eight replied cheerfully. "Have fun!"  
  
No, Eight wasn't taking _any_ pleasure from seeing somebody who'd kicked her butt multiple times in a state of utter shock. Why do you ask?  
  
While Pearl and Three were slowly Inkshifting everything into the back of the car, Marina had brought Eight out of the store and up the side opposite to where they'd walked in. Apparently they were still doing the whole sleepover thing, even though Marina and Three were liable to hurt each other. Eight got the impression that it was to make fun of Three. Marina said that she was going to download copies of whatever movies Eight wanted to watch - which according to Marina was only a 'slightly' criminal act. About as evil as telling annoying jokes at somebody.  
  
Eight thought she'd rather die than have that happen, but then she guessed Marina had different standards than Eight did.  
  
"A movie is... Kind of like one of the vids they made us watch," Marina explained as they sat down on a nearby bench underneath a large tree. Whew... There was a nice breeze here. "But they're for entertainment! Plus, you can rewatch them over and over again."  
  
Huh. So... A Vid for... Entertainment? "Like the propaganda stuff? Like..." A name slipped into her mouth before Eight even remembered it. "Sponge Armouroids?" Man, Eight barely remembered that show, but it'd been so _awesome_. It'd been about... Eight racked her brain. ... Guns? Eh. She couldn't remember. It'd be super fun to watch again.  
  
"Kind of, but without all the rampant propaganda and lying. I actually forgot about Sponge Armouroids, I might have to look into that..." Oh, cool! She wondered what sort of movies there were? Were they individual, like the old Vids in the Domes? Wait, no. Don't be stupid Eight. This is the Surface! _Everything_ here is unnecessarily complicated. There was a minor clicking noise as Marina pulled out her laptop from inside a satchelbag - yes, it'd been there the whole time, Eight just didn't bother to mention it, shut up - and opened it up. "Oh yeah, that reminds me... Splatoween is coming up this month... I almost forgot, given how busy we were helping you get out of Kamabo..."  
  
Huh? Splatoween? "What's that? Is it like one of the Splatfests that Three mentioned?"  
  
"Hmm... Kind of. It's this big week long thing! You dress up in a costume and go door to door so people give you candy!" Marina paused for a moment. "Candy is a snack, just so you know. And if they don't give you candy, you get to play a _trick_ on them!" Oooh! Free food?! Eight was all over that! She wanted to do that now!  
  
"When does it happen?!" Eight asked quickly. She really wanted to know!  
  
Marina giggled. "It's a big week long holiday. From the 25th to the 31st, it's all about ghosts and monsters and stuff!" Woooooaaaah! Wait, dates?! What day was it now?! She had to know! "Right now, it's the 9th. So... Roughly two weeks? Eurgh, not _nearly_ enough time to put a costume together..." Her clawtips danced across the keys for a moment, ending up on a grey page with lots of little blue links. The bar up the top said _www.screencapture.sea/movies/home_. Yeah, Eight wasn't great with computers, but she knew how to use them.  
  
"What are those things?" Eight asked as she leaned in. There were little flashing banner thingies there too... They were advertising... Something about a comic? Hm. Marina tapped the little button on the edge of the laptop a few times. "Why are they flashing?"  
  
Marina shrugged as she clicked something, and the banners vanished. "Ads. Must have forgotten to turn on Adblocker... Anyways. Splatoween is a bit off, so... Movies! We'll see if you like anything in particular here." She handed the laptop off to Eight and smiled. "Take a look and see!" Um. Okay? Uh... There were some options on this page. Errr, if she had to pick anything... Um... Sci-fi? Whatever that meant? Eight tapped that. The page was suddenly replaced by a new one, almost every inch covered in little titles. Were these movies?  
  
Uh... Okay... Let's see... "What does Sci-fi mean?" she asked as she scrolled down the page. Geeze, was this not alphabatized? Eight hated this site immediately. "I don't think I've ever heard of it before."  
  
"It means 'Science Fiction'. Stories about stuff like technology and space and time travel and stuff," Marina said as Eight slowly shifted the cursor. Geeze, how did Marina not scratch this every time she so much as tapped it? Hmm... _Enter The Manefish_ sounded neat. She clicked on that. Wait. No. It had people wearing leather like she'd been wearing in Kamabo. Denied. Uh... Oh, there was a back arrow. Okay. Back to the list. "Apparently it's called speculative fiction or something. Personally, I prefer to deal with Science Fact, but some of these movies are neat in a 'So Bad They're Good' way."  
  
Huh. Alright... Um... "So about Splatoween? Why is it a thing? I mean, I get the candy... But Pearl acted weird when I said that the December Celebrations had a purpose. Do... Holidays up here not really mean anything?" Ooh, that looked cool. _Star Trevally III - The Search For Smelt_. Oh, but they only had the third one... And it wasn't red. Okay, move onto the next. "I mean... Looking back, everything from the Domes was... Not great. But it always had... A purpose, I guess? A reason to be there." Eh... That _Mad Mackerel_ film looked cool, buuuut... Nah.  
  
"A hundred years ago, it was a big celebration of Sephahlo. A trickster goddess asking for tricks to be played in her name." Huh. Made sense. Oh, _Fish In Black_. Looked neat, but a little too close to Central's general look for her comfort. Next. "Now it's more of a family event. Hang out with friends, have some candy, play a few tricks... Fun stuff." Hm. Eight wondered what it was like to have a family. Even if she used to have a squad, it wasn't the same.  
  
She knew that there was a child, a mother, and a father. Maybe another child if they were a bit rich. Other than that, it was all a bit _out there_ to Eight. The whole idea was apparently close to what a squad was meant to be, but since a squad wasn't related by blood, it was inherently inferior. "... Marina. Do... Do you know what it's like to have a family?" Marina was quiet for a moment. "I can't really remember it."  
  
A minute passed. "Friends are people you'll die for. But family is... Lorelei couldn't sing. Just _impossible_ for her. She sounded like a Squee-G going in reverse." A few noises came out of Marina's throat - a warbling screeching noise. Weirdo. "Arlene ate five whole Power Eggs once. She spent a week in the infirmary whining about how she TOOOOTALLY didn't desEEERRVVVE it, Katey dared her, she HAAAD to do ITTTT, ugh, her life is so MISSSERABLLLLEEEEE UGGGGGGHHHHHH."  
  
"It sounds more like you're making fun of them."  
  
"I am. They were the _weirdest_ and _dumbest_ morons _ever_ , and I miss them both _so very much_. That's what family means. Friends come and go, but the dumb idiots who stay by your bedside after you eat a Power Egg in solidarity are forever." Hm... Eight wished she could remember if she had anybody like that. Somebody to lie with her about how they totally hadn't spent a few hours shooting the little helicaps off of Octocopters with a Charger. Like, she had done that. But she didn't remember who gave her an alibi for it, which really irked her. Irk was a nice word. "Just remember: Friends and family are something you choose. If anyone says otherwise, feel free to yell at them."   
  
"... Thanks, Marina. You're a good friend."  
  
"No problem, Eight." Eight was lucky she had friends. Oh! She found something nice! Uh... _Spacegate the Motion Picture._ It had a picture of a beam and a ring, two dudes staring at each other dramatically, and a little... Pyramid? Yeah. It looked neato. "Mm? Do you like that one?"  
  
Eight nodded. "Yeah! It looks cool!" There was a little blurb thing next to the cover picture thing. It was about something called a Spacegate, that led to another planet on the other side of the universe. The main character was a dude named Koi Russel, some kind of military person. Eight reckoned she could get along with that dude. And it starred aliens and technology and stuff! Awesome! "Can we get this one? Pretty please?"  
  
Marina shifted the laptop towards herself and tapped three times. "Aaaannd... Download started. I turned my laptop into a wifi hotspot?" She proceeded to dive into a Level 12 Dive into Technological Nonsense and started rambling about phonelines. Why would you need a _phone_ for a computer? "So it should just download no matter what we're doing. Any others?" Hmmm... Eight was gonna back out for a second to the first menu place. Maybe try something else.  
  
Uh... Action, maybe? Suddenly, Marina's phone rang. "Is that Pearl?"  
  
"Must be. I'll put her on speaker, so we can both hear her. Hey babe, what's--" Immediately, the air was filled with the sounds of two angry Inklings. Eight didn't know what she'd expected, honestly.  
  
" _HEY REENA. MY LOVE! MY BEAUTIFUL GIRLFRIEND! DIVINE MUSE OF WONDER!"_ Pearl screeched at the top of her lungs. In the background, Three was just kind of making a noise of absolute fury. She imagined that they were either punching each other or killing each other. " _THE SEXIEST DAME WHO'S EVER LIVED! ANY OTHER FUCKING DESCRIPTOR THAT MAKES THREE SHUT THE FUCK UP!_ " Marina blushed light green.  
  
 _"YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HATE YOU! I'LL KILL YOUR FUCKING FAMILY, YOU STUPID FUCK!"_ Three screeched, just as equally loud. Pearl audibly threw something at Three. Eight was officially lost. _"YOU BASTARD! YOU SHITFUCK JELLYFISH EATING FUCKING REEL GOBBLING SQUISHYHEADED FUCK! YOU SHUT UP! YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!"_ There was a slam that sounded like two car doors, and then the sound of the engine starting up. Eight gave Marina a confused glance as she clicked on 'Action' on the site.  
  
Marina, probably the only Adult that Eight knew of who wasn't lethally silly or angry, just stared at the phone seriously. It seemed to almost transmit through. "What are you two arguing about?" It'd be nice to know, yeah... Hm... _Hightider_? Looked interesting. The picture said 'There can be only one'... Nope! Reminds her too much of basic training. What else was there? "Pearl, are you trying to tell people that Gudgeon Seed is good again?"  
  
" _Okay, no, that's like. A totally different argument_ ," Pearl replied lightly. Her tone went right back to barely reasonable and filled with rage. " _BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT, AND THREE IS A FUCKING INKEATING PIECE OF ACTUAL FUCKING GARBAGE THAT NOBODY LIKES!"_  
  
" _AT LEAST I'M NOT WROOOONG!"_ Three yelled back loudly. _"Listen Eight! Don't listen to Pearl! She's a fucking trainwreck!"_ There was a brief pause as Three considered her words. _"Like, I'm ALSO a fucking trainwreck, but at least I'm not a FUCKING MORON!"_  
  
" _A MORON?! WOULD A MORON LIKE GLOWFLY?!_ "  
  
" _YES! YES THEY WOULD! IT'S THE WORST FUCKING ONE! EARTHA KINGFISH SHOULD BE FUCKING ASHAMED SHE WAS IN IT!_ " At this, Pearl gave the most offended gasp that Eight had ever heard.  
  
" _You shut your lying mouth. Eartha is a_ wonderful _lady, and she KILLED that role!_ " Eight was officially lost on what they were arguing about.  
  
Three growled loudly. " _I'm not denying that she was amazing, but she's the ONLY GOOD THING about that entire trainwreck! The only one worse than Glowfly is The Sea My Country, and we BOTH KNOW FUCKING WHY!_ "  
  
 _"What?! No! The Sea My Country IS OUTSTANDING!_ " Eight scrolled down the page. Ugh, the lack of organization was starting to hurt her head. Ooh, what was that? _Die Haddock_? Eh. Looked a bit boring. The picture was just of a guy next to a building. Nah, Eight would go look at something else. Click! " _It's the best Anchovy Hatheway film._ "  
  
" _Holy shit, I've never actually hated anybody like this before,_ " Three whispered, probably more to herself than to anybody else. " _No. You lose your RIGHT to say words anymore. You actual fucking fool. I hate you so much. I think I hate you more than I hate Ida. I think I hate you more than I hate Salmonids. I think I hate you more than I hate my own mother, and that is a HIGH FUCKING BAR_."  
  
Eight decided to interrupt. "What are you two even _talking_ about?"  
  
"They're talking about the Jasmine Bass films," Marina sighed. She sounded like this was something she'd had to explain to more than a few people. "It's this action franchise about a spy who stops terrorist organizations from completing their evil plans. Every few movies, she's played by a different actress, and Pearl is a very big fan." Ooh. That sounded cool.   
  
" _A GOOD FAN!_ " Pearl yelled.  
  
" _I can't physically find the words to express how wrong you are,_ " Three snarled. " _Anchovy Hatheway? Really? You like her movies. Any of them. They're stupid modernized special effect filled borefests, barely not even representing the books they're based on._ " Oh, there were _books_? Ooh, Eight would have to look into that in the near future...   
  
Oh. Hold on. Wait a second... "Um, excuse me? This site has a list of the Jasmine Bass movies." Dead silence held the air. And then... Noise. Eight waited for a moment as everybody threw words at her, forgetting that Eight probably didn't know what the heck they were talking about. "I can pick one out, but I'm not sure which one is which..."  
  
" _Glowfly, Glowfly, Glowfly!_ " Pearl chanted.  
  
" _Deep Blue! It's the best one!_ " Three yelled.  
  
Hm... "Marina, what's your favourite one?"  
  
Eight didn't like that silence, or the way that Pearl sighed. "Um... I liked For Her Service?"  
  
" _Holy Shit,_ " Three said, void of any emotion.  
  
Pearl sighed. " _Don't worry, babe. We'll get through this._ "  
  
"There's nothing to get through! For Her Service is a good movie," Marina replied defensively. It sounded like a good movie.  
  
" _It's really not,_ " Pearl replied softly. " _And Halle Bask is a really, REALLY bad actress._ "  
  
"So what?!"  
  
Hm... Uh... Oh, what about this one? "How about... Inkstrike? Uh, it says it stars Julie Newmarlin." The picture looked neat! It had a... Kind of, um. Adult look to it? A naked lady with her back to the camera, covered in various paint colours. It wasn't ink, ink usually looked slick and wet. Paint usually dried fairly neatly and plainly. Anyways, the title labeled it as Inkstrike, and it looked pretty cool! "Can we get this one too?"  
  
Marina nodded. "Yes, we can." Click, click! A little blue arrow appeared at the top of the screen. Eight took that to mean it was downloading. Yes! "Now, ignoring my good taste in movies, are we all happy with Inkstrike, or do either of you have problems with it?"  
  
" _Julie Newmarlin, fuck yeah!_ " Three cheered.  
  
Pearl agreed, which thankfully meant the argument was probably over. " _She is pretty cool. Look, Three. You like Jasmine Bass. So you can't be all bad. Just agree with me that Sunmask had the best song, and we're golden._ " A moment of pause as Three fiddled with her phone. Music started playing. " _Oh, fuck yeah. My fucking JAM. Marina, I don't get your beef. Three is fucking rad._ "  
  
Both Inklings started making a weird noise along to the music. It sounded kind of like they were trying to imitate guitars...? Marina suddenly flinched and grabbed the phone, clutching at it like it was the actual real Pearl. "Pearlie! No! Pearl! Do not!"  
  
" _Onnnneeee_ ," Pearl sang, voice suddenly clear of any roughness. It was astounding! Was this what a proper singer sounded like? " _Eye on the shadows, protectin' her fellows, from sun up to the moon on her back!"_  
  
"PEARLIE NO!"  
  
And then Eight was glad she wasn't looking at Three right now and that she was sitting down because Three started singing and holy heck her brain couldn't take it not that she was bad she was nice Eight was just going to turn her brain off now! " _Sends the villains to hades, a hit with the ladies, a champion - in the sack!"_  
  
Both of them started trading off lyrics. It was doing really bad things to Eight's head. " _Ya can't get your life back, when right follows left, jack!" "The more you see, the less you know!_ " By this point, Marina looked like she was about to die of exhaustion. Eight kind of agreed. " _Where others would leak it!" "Her service is secret!" "PLAYS GOD WHEN IT'S YOUR TIME TO GO!" "QUEEN AND COUNTRY SAFE AND SOUND, VILLAIN SIX FEET UNDERGROUND!" "AND NOONE KNOWS CAUSE NOONES FOUND ANY TRACE OF THE WOMAN FOR ALL SEASONS, LOVES 'EM AND LEAVES 'EM ALONE! SO ALONE!"_  
  
Marina hung up the phone. "Pearl does this _every_ time she remembers that song exists. She has to sing it, and it's apparently scientifically engineered to get stuck in my head. It'll be there for weeks and it'll infect every single piece of music I make." A tired, bordering on desperate, sigh left Marina's mouth. "Oh well. At least she's having fun. I'll call her in a few minutes when she's done. Anyway... Any other movies you want to look at?" Well... Hm.  
  
Maybe... Oh, what was that catagory? Other? "What's this one?"  
  
"Other? It's any movie that doesn't fit into another catagory. Stuff like Frostyfest movies, or childrens films, or..." Marina shuddered, afraid of a terrible power. "Direct to VHS movies." Eight had no idea what a VHS was. But it sounded awful, archaic, and other bad words that start with A. Truly, a nightmare to be avoided. Huuuh... Maybe this one... It looked nice, but... Ehh. _Disgraceful Us._ Looked interesting, but hit too close to home with her whole. Y'know. Guilt complex over being a bad person.  
  
Don't be proud of doing awful things.  
  
Hmm... "Hey, Marina?" Eight asked idly as she scrolled a bit further. Bluh, none of these even sounded vaguely interesting. "Um... How did you get your tentacles so... _Weird_?" It was kind of unreal! They were two different colours! She understood that it was possible to _force_ that sort of pattern, but just... Walking around with it all the time? Not to mention the uneven lengths! That one near her head was super short, the other one was past her waist, and the other two were just below her torso. It was kind of surreal.  
  
Like, Inklings were one thing - they had a stupid variety of tentacle styles, but it kind of made sense since they were fashion minded? But Octarians weren't that - utility first, appearance second. It was more useful to have tentacles all the same length, so their reaction speed was synced up right when you got one to grab a nearby toolbox or weapon! Not to mention, pinning yourself to a ceiling for recon purposes was harder if you had less suckers on one tentacle than the others.  
  
"Well, I do have Halftone. Not as bad as Pearl or Callie have it, but the gradient is still there." Marina admitted slowly. Made sense. Halftone did affect roughly 32% of the Octarian population, after all. Inklings got it too, which was pretty weird. "As for my hair?"  
  
"Tentacles," Eight enforced.  
  
"HAIR. It's bothersome saying tentacles all the time..." Truly, Inklings had _corrupted_ her with their lazy ways. "I got it styled. There're all sorts of tools for it these days, and it's really easy too! Why do you ask?"  
  
Well... It... "It looks nice. And, um. I was... Wondering if _I_ could get something like that." It was stupid. Maybe Eight was being selfish...  
  
"Of course you can!" Wait, really?! Yay! "I don't have the proper tools for it, but I think there's at least one shop here in The Reef that sells them... I'll drop by and grab some in a bit." Cool! Come to think of it, Three seemed to be the only Inkling she'd met that had the normal Inkling tentaclestyle they'd been shown in all the vids. Callie and Marie had their weird headknot things, Pearl had hers in a big wide sort of bucket thing, even the teams she'd fought today hadn't had the same tentaclestyle as Three.  
  
Huh. Why was that? "If you can style tentacles, then why does Three not do that?"  
  
"Probably can't be bothered," Marina replied simply. "She probably wakes up every morning and just doesn't do anything with it." Huh. That's... Kind of sad, actually. What was this one? _Halibut Potter and the Eight Doesn't Care Anymore_? Wow, that sure was a title! So boring Eight forgot it existed! Onto the next one!  
  
"So... How does it even work, anyways?" Eight asked as she kept scrolling. More boring sounding stuff. Bluh. "I mean, I know it can't be cutting our tentacles. Otherwise you'd have Octotroopers everywhere."  
  
"Well, you know how our tentacles are made of ink?" Well yeah, she knew that. The Ink Sac connected to the tentacles, made it easier to change your ink colour for camouflage and quick getaways. There was a base layer of ink on your head, and tentacles grew out of that. Only part of the body that was 100% entirely ink, come to think of it. "The ink reacts to sudden high temperature heat that it goes all wobbly and kind of melty. Sort of like the nutrition cubes we used to eat, actually."  
  
"EWWW! I don't wanna _think_ about my tentacles in Nutrition Cubes!" Gross gross gross _grooossss_!  
  
Marina laughed. Like that was _hilarious_ to her. Weird jerky jerk. "Once it's wobbly, you can mold it however you please! There are special combs to add textures, curlers to make your tentacles all curly, special molds if you want unusual shapes, it's all pretty fun once you get the hang of it! I tried a mohawk for a few weeks. Wasn't my style, but it was nice!"  
  
Huh... "So you can just... Do whatever with your tentacles?" That sounded nice.  
  
"Mmhmm. As long as you don't hit people with them, anything is fine."  
  
Sounded nice, if a bit pacifistic. Ooh, that... That looked cool... _Angler Family Values_. Well... It looked kind of gloomy. And it was lots of black. But it did look sort of cool and overly fancy. That dude had a nice hat, and the dresses looked fancy... There were plants around the title too, so it wasn't too bad. Not quite what she was looking for, though. "... This is nice. Just sitting here."  
  
"According to Pearl, what we're doing right now qualifies as 'Chillaxing'." Aw, heck yeah. Two ladies, chillaxing all cool. It was kind of quiet. Some of those kids darting around on... What were those? "Hey, Marina? What are those people doing?"  
  
"They're treating The Reef like a skatepark," Marina hissed. "Those damn Rudies! They're so unsafe! Always zipping about on their rollerskates and skateboards! They're menaces, Eight. To both the public, and their OWN HEALTH."  
  
Oh. Oh no. Had Eight... Had she accidentally fallen back into the pit? The fathomless _black mass_ that contained the wills of all Sci Ops members? Standard Health And Safety, they would whisper. We welcome thee, oh _childe_. Submit to the Regulations, to the Standards, to the Acts, know true Order and DESPAIR. Eight would really rather _die_ than listen to Marina listen to that again. And then, like an ANGEL from the HIGHEST HEAVENS... Pearl stepped in. "Babe, stop dramatizing it. They're kids, let them be stupid."  
  
"BUT PEARL!"  
  
Wait. Pearl was there, but... Where was... "Where's Three?"  
  
Pearl gave Eight a look. It was the kind of look where you REALLY wanted to spill a secret, but also knew it'd be _way_ funnier if you left it a surprise. "Saw this shop near the tunnel outside, wanted to go check it out." She gave another look to Marina. This look was... Something. Eight wasn't sure what it was, but it certainly seemed to annoy Marina. Marina rolled her eyes so hard she moved her entire head, and then did it again for good measure. "Yeah, I know. Let the stupid kids do what they want."  
  
"... I hope you're right, Pearlie."  
  
"I know I'm right, Reena."  
  
Music Hug! It was like a Normal Hug but done by musicians. At least Three hadn't gone home or something... Oh. Hello. That one looked SUPER cool! There were these glowy smile things, and a dude standing in front of... She guessed the moon? She'd never actually seen the moon before except in pictures. And there was a curly hill! Hills don't usually curl, you see. _The Nightmare Before Squidmas_... Cool!  
  
She wanted this one! Click! Hm... That seemed to be about it. Nothing else immediately jumped out at her for the time being. "Hey, Marina? I'm done!"  
  
"Really? Let me see... Oh, yeah. Those are all nice. And they're downloading pretty fast, too. By the time we're done, we should be at Three's apartment," Marina said as she slipped her laptop back into her bag. "So, anywhere else you want to go before we leave? Obviously, I'll try to find that hair place, but..."  
  
Anywhere else Eight wanted to go? Hmm... Well, she--  
  
Her eyes locked dead onto a store just past Inkbargain. No way. Shakily, she reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the tickets that Iso Padre had given to her. On the tickets was the name of a store, and a small line of text saying that you were entitled to one free outfit. It was there. She couldn't believe it. The words she'd heard back on the Deepsea Metro...  
  
 _"The Well-Dweller knows nothing of The Ocean's Breadth."_  
  
It hadn't been a metaphor.  
  
It'd been an _advertisement_.  
  
Eight burst into a sprint and left her friends as she ran full tilt towards the humble purple shopfront with the sign labeled The Ocean's Breadth.  
  
As she pushed open the door, there was a faint jingle of a bell. It was fairly quiet inside. The walls were painted a dark purple, with a barely visible pattern of kelp winding around in intricate patterns, while the floor was a dark wooden black. There were several racks with suits, all neatly arranged against the wall. Two couches, possibly for company, sat near a simple mirror in a wooden frame. Several cabinets filled with fabric were arranged in another corner, and several mannequins wearing dresses and coats. The lighting was a pale white, yet not bright enough that it hurt the eyes. Soft music was playing through the store, some smooth and light saxophone tune paired with a young woman's voice.  
  
There was a counter, behind which was a tall Jellyfish. They were pinkish, and had purple stripes along the cap at the top of their head. Compared to the blue ones she'd seen earlier, it was much larger and had more tendrils. Maybe this was an adult one? It was also wearing a fancy dark blue dress covered in tiny little blue... Were those gems? "Ah, it is a pleasure to be greeting," the Jellyfish said in a smooth light voice. Her eyes darted towards a row of suits for a moment, almost worried. "I am Cassandra Colora. There is not seeing many of you for some time. An Inkling is a unique customer, or at least their cousin shares their rarity. Shall we converse your coming?" Uh. Okay?  
  
Cassandra waved at the couch, and Eight sat down. Cassandra sat down opposite her, simple white and black eyes focusing and unfocusing in Eight's general direction repeatedly. "Uh... Okay? Um. I'm here to, um..." She looked down at the ticket in her hand. The crumpled, dirty ticket. You could barely make out some of the words now. It seemed like a big insult to what Iso Padre had given her.   
  
"Ah, the tickets for free. Iso set about for the sharing of them years ago." Wait, he did? Cassandra nodded to herself as her eyes kept unfocusing. "Inklings are quite defective. Producing great splashes, they reduce to monochromities of mere shirts. Iso refused that monochromities be so small, that it must be your being that pairs with the black and white - that style is not rich. That ticket, it is a sign you met him."  
  
... Should she tell her that Iso probably forgot her? "He... He was..."  
  
"Do not tell. Iso put great price upon his shell. To know his life would be rude to that shell, and nobody can talk any different. Even if he isn't with me, I know him. And I prefer that the photo in my brain is not signed by unknowing travellers." ... Eight kind of got it. It made sense. "Now. May I be asking the reason you've arrived?"  
  
Eight didn't know. "I... Iso Padre helped me. He gave me these tickets. I... I don't know what else to do with them."  
  
Cassandra nodded simply. "I've sighted that, yes. So let us give you the unshackled fabric. Up, up! I can see you all now, I just need the threads." Uh, okay? Cassandra stood and drifted over to the mirror, gesturing for Eight to follow. Eight moved to stand in front of the mirror, and watched as Cassandra moved behind her and started to work. Two tendrils pushed her arms up in a T shape, and another two snatched up a measuring tape and lifted it to her arms. The moment her arms were up, one circled her wrist lightly for a split second and then trailed along her back until it reached her other wrist. Maybe accounting for how bulky her sweater was? "Hmm, hmm, yes, my ocean... Ah. Now then, what is your colour being? Your best one?"  
  
Her... Colour? Oh, favourites. Well it was-- Um. Not Orange. Red. Red was Not Orange. "Um, red? I like that a lot."  
  
"Ah, I supposed. Hm. Let us glimpse... _Quite_ an uneven one... Perhaps..." Uneven? Eight wasn't uneven, was she? Suddenly, her tendrils retreated. Several bubbling noises rang out from her. "Be answering. Do you prefer the empty or the swarm?" Uh. Well, she wasn't a big fan of Salmonids, and those could be said to swarm, so...  
  
She guessed empty? "Empty, I think?" Cassandra hummed and stretched, pink tendrils reaching down to measure her bodylength. There was a sort of mindless memory to her movements, the sort where you aren't paying any attention yet knew exactly what you were doing. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"It is easier when the speech makes your work." She nodded. "You brawl for that land?" Uh. Brawl for... Wait, did she mean that Eight played Splat Battles? Turf Wars. Uh... Yeah, kind of?  
  
"A little?"  
  
"Mm. Very good!" Another bubbling noise rang out. "Please be taking the seating." Um. Okay? She'd just. Go sit down? Cassandra drifted over to a nearby hive of sewing machines, pulled out a stack of red fabric from a cabinet, and got to work. Eight got the impression any words would be kind of lost on her. Some people just got that zen about them when they worked - they fell into this sort of trance state, where they acted on pure instinct. Eight had never been totally sure of how it... Worked? Acted? Brains were weird. Especially that dude's brain. Wait. Dude?   
  
Yeah... Hold on. _That_ dude. The dude who... Who... Oh, she wasn't super cool with this. Uh... Squadmate, obviously. He'd been a total dork. Maybe... What weapon did he like? It was... Charger? No, Slosher. Something like that, it was something with bombs... It was... It was... Come on, just push through the memories, it was...  
  
 ~~ _uizkca wzvibca_~~. Ugh, finally! Stupid memory block, blocking her memories. Eight hated it so much. She just wanted her STUFF back! Yes, memories count as Stuff, don't question her! Memories were totally Stuff, and they were Eight's, and this stupid BRAIN WAS HOLDING THEM FROM HER. Stupid brain. Stupid fleshy thing that controlled her every movement. UGH, alright... Bring on the painful memories.  
  
 ~~ _uizkca wzvibca, i jwg epw'l vmdmz oqdmv cx. cvtqsm uwab wn pmz nmttwe awtlqmza, pm nwcvl vw awtikm wz rwg qv bpm cam wn emixwva. zibpmz, pm bczvml bw bpm abzivom qlmi wn awtmtg xzikbqkqvo eqbp jwuja wn itt nwzua. pqa ikkczikg ivl axmml eqbp nwzuqvo ivl omvmzibqvo bpmu awwv jmkium ijaczl, ijtm bw pczt lwhmva wn jwuja eqbpqv amkwvla. mdmv eqbp pqa ijamvb-uqvlml umuwzg, pm eia i bzcabml kwuxivqwv, ivl i jzwbpmz._~~  
  
 ~~ _pm eia i jqb wn i nwwt, jcb i nwwt epw iteiga pil i emixwv ib bpm zmilg. qb vmdmz abwxxml pqu nzwu ammsqvo bpib uiabmzg wn kwujib, bpib xmznmkb qvabqvkb. "qn q omb aw owwl q lwv'b mdmv pidm bw bpqvs, bpmv quioqvm pwe owwl q'tt jm epmv q lw bpqvs!" pqa epwtm owit eia bw jm wkbidqw. bw nqoczm wcb pwe bw jmib bpm qvstqvoa, ivl eqv bpmqz zqopb bw bpm acznikm. ivl bpmv bpmg'l umb bpm zmaqabivkm bmiu vmiz axzmilmz axtibnmab. jwuj ticvkpmza pwwsml cx bw uwlqnqml qvs bivsa, iv cvjzmisijtm nzwvb tqvm. aycil 25 pil... dmzg tqbbtm kpivkm wn eitsqvo ieig._~~  
  
 ~~ _uizkca pil auqtml ivl rcab... ziv wcb bw pqa lmibp. pqa jwuja pil uivioml bw amkczm i xibp nwz mqopb ivl uizzqai bw aczdqdm._~~  
  
 ~~ _jcb pm'l lwvm bpib jg zcvvqvo wcbaqlm bpm zmikp wn i axievxwqvb. mdmzg vqopb inbmz bpib, mqopb zmumujmzml._~~  
  
 ~~ _"aw twvo!" pm'l gmttml. tqsm pm eia rcab aigqvo owwljgm ivl vwb..._~~  
  
 ~~ _ivl vwb..._~~  
  
 ~~ _ivl vwb tmidqvo. ivl vwb rcab tmidqvo uizzqai ivl mqopb itwvm._~~  
  
Bluh. Memories sucked. What'd that been? Somebody had... _Died_? And there hadn't been a Spawnpoint there to catch them. Mmph. Something about it unsettled her. To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure of what that was. Something about it felt... _Off_. And she wasn't sure of why that was. Like a piece of a puzzle had been _missing_ or something. A sudden jingling noise grabbed her attention, and Eight shoved her thoughts to the back of her head. "Eight! Holy shit dude, don't sneak off like that!"  
  
Pearl looked... Worried. "Huh? What do you mean?"  
  
"We took our eyes off you for like, five seconds! And when we looked back, you were _gone_." She hurried over and wrapped her arms around Eight tightly. "Don't do that, okay? Just... Tell us you're going. Even if it's just that."  
  
Um. Okay? Was it that big a deal? "Okay? I can do that."  
  
Pearl gave a tired sigh. "Thanks. Fucking hell, I'm way too _young_ to be this worried about somebody like this..." She tapped something on her phone. Looked like she was texting Marina. 'got 8 inkbargains' Huh. "Anyways, what got you so caught up you had to run?"  
  
Eight showed her the ticket. "This. I... I had to know."  
  
"Mm. I get it. Feels like it'd be the end of the world if you didn't check it out, right?" Yeah. Yeah! That was super what it felt like! Pearl shook her head. "I get it. Feels like nothin' else matters. 'Cause I've had that. Where you just have to gun it and _go_. But it's super important that you don't just _vanish_ on somebody, cause we care about you."  
  
Eight nodded. "Okay."  
  
"VOILA!" Cassandra suddenly screamed. Like, actually top of her lungs screamed. "IT IS DONE!" Compared to her light and sort of weightless drifting before, her movement now was sudden and stompy. She rushed over, grabbed Eight by the arm and hauled her over to the mirror. Eight suddenly found something pressed into her hands, and Cassandra posing dramatically as her eyes began to focus and unfocus rapidly. Um. "PUT. IT. ON."  
  
Uhm... Okay? Eight unfolded the soft fabric in her arms and found... Oh. Oh wow. She'd made this that quickly?! Maybe it was all the extra arms, that'd help speed it up... It was a cloak, just like Three's. But instead of being a muddied brownish grey, it was a deep dark red, with two little golden buttons attached to the... Neck. Area. Eight wasn't great with words. And on the back, switching from red to a dark purple, was a smooth ribbon twisting into the number 8. Eight undid the buttons and moved it over her neck. Click. Click.  
  
It was really soft... And fancy. She loved it. "Holy shit," Pearl gasped. "That's a fucking look." It really was. Wait, was there some fabric behind her? She reached back and grasped at something before pulling it over her head. It had a hood. Heck yeah. Eight pulled her hat out from under the hood and stared into the mirror. Wow... Under the hood, the glow from her bioluminescence was way brighter. It was giving her whole face this overshadowed look, like she was an evil overlord or something! Neato...  
  
A satisfied bubbling noise erupted from Cassandra. " _Wonderous_! It was ordinary to form. How is the feel? Does it please your brain?" Eight nodded as she felt the fabric in her hands. It was super soft and smooth, and light! Eight did a quick spin on her toes. The cloak rippled out behind her, creating a sudden spiral of red around her. Oooh, she loved it! "Hmhmhm! Then I shall request one ticket!"  
  
Eight handed over the ticket and smiled. "Thank you, Miss Colora!"  
  
Cassandra laughed lightly. "No. It is the grace that is yours. The clock spun much before you treaded through the gate." She held out a tendril and shook Eight's hand. She cleared her throat and audibly slowed down. "Please. Do come again. I would... Enjoy meeting you twice."  
  
"It'd be my pleasure."  
  


  
\---

  
  
The moment that the child and her friend left the store, the owner turned a vicious glare towards a row of suits. "Are you being joyous? Get removed!" A figure with Salmonid-green ink slipped out from her hiding spot, shifting to a brighter yellow as she stood up. Granny Burnes smiled and adjusted her clothes. Man, waiting in place for that long really did a number on her back... "Did your ears work?!"  
  
"They worked. And I'll be honest, they don't much _care_. You're not much of a threat to me." Her hand gestured to the knife at her hip. She suddenly lunged and grabbed the owner by the throat, tackling her over the counter and out of sight. A second later, her tentacles wrapped around the knife and drew it, pressing the blade to the Jellyfish's throat. "Now. Let's talk. The measurements?"  
  
The owner wheezed out a series of digits. Hmph. Good to know, but that ruled out a number of her bigger suspects as to who the girl was. The dozen or so she had left... None of those were exactly _reassuring_ to be supporting Craig. "What... Is... Your hobby... With her?" Her hobby, huh?  
  
Granny smiled. "She's a puzzle. And I ain't the biggest _fan_ of puzzles. Got a few edges, but darned if I can reckon how they fit together. Now. You ain't gonna say a _word_ to her, or her friend. Or _anybody_. Or I'll dig my friend here a bit further down." The owner nodded. Granny grinned and snatched the ticket. Probably had some residue on it... Might make figuring out where her new interest came from easier.  
  
Knife back in its holster, she hopped up and dived into a nearby vent. Hm... Ticket was issued... Damn, over sixty years ago? Looked brand new though, if you ignored the dirt... Who _was_ this girl? Not nearly enough scratches or bumps to be a proper Octarian, yet enough muscle mass to prove she'd been properly trained by Front Ops... This was all wrong.  
  
Ignoring the odd looks she got as she crawled out of the vent, Granny stalked out of The Reef. Took a bit of a lengthy route, but making sure she wasn't seen by anybody important was... Important. Shut up, she's old, she's allowed to be bad at words. Time to call in a favour. She punched a number into her phone and lifted it up to her ear. " _This is Lola. Please leave your message after the beep."_ The voice paused. " _Beep._ "  
  
"Lola, I need a favour. Background check ASAP. Front Ops, shooter specialist, birth colour seems to be red. Not sure where she served, but I'd guess somewhere in the Valley, probably went AWOL sometime in the last two years. I need it now." She hung up and called another number. Ugh, she _hated_ talking to this guy... "Mr Mayor, good afternoon..."

  
\---

  
  
"Dude, I might have to go back there for my own cloak, that thing is RAD." Heck yeah it was! It was so floaty and cool! She was never ever going to take this off! Except to clean it, because things smelling was bad. But aside from that, never ever! "Or maybe a suit... Me and Marina have this music video we wanna do, but _nobody_ makes suits that have full movement in them. It's really annoying."  
  
That seemed like bad practice. "Really? Why not?"  
  
"Because suits are meant to be _casual_ wear, not _battle_ wear," Pearl replied woodenly. "My papa was big on that thing, you don't wear expensive clothing unless you gotta. Which is stupid - half my _wardrobe_ is crazy expensive and I wear that shit every day."  
  
Huh. "What is a suit, anyway? Why do you wear one?" Was it like the outfit Three had worn the other day?  
  
"Down here, with normal people? Mostly to look cool." ... Normal people? "But in high society, you _gotta_ wear one, or you're not 'The Right Sort' or whatever the fuck else that means."  
  
"So like the Nobles?" Eight didn't trust Nobles. Or anybody from Central really, like she'd take orders but she didn't _trust_ them. Nobles were all insane, and threw tantrums all the time. There were no end of stories of soldiers who got taken off duty because they snapped and beat the stuffing out of an arrogant twit from Central, and to be honest, Eight was pretty sure that before she lost her memories, she would've been _joining_ that list. "Stupid arrogant people who you want to punch?"  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yup. The concept is universal."  
  
"Speaking of stupid arrogant dipshits," Marina said as she joined them with a plastic bag in hand. "I'm pretty sure Three is on her way down here."  
  
"Already here," Three replied as she walked up behind Marina. "Though you don't have to say arrogant dipshits, just say my name." OOOOOH wait was that a burn or an insult or a self deprecation nevermind Eight reserved the right to keep going _OOOOOH_.  
  
Marina sighed as she wrapped her arms around Eight tightly. Hugs were nice. "I'm sure Pearl already gave you the lecture, but... Please don't do that again. I don't want to lose you already." Oh. That's right... Marina had lost her friends like that. Right. She let go. "After Pearl texted me and said she found you, I figured I'd grab some things while I was up the other end of The Reef. Tada!" She opened the bag, revealing... Little boxes of... Oh, were these tentacle stuffs?  
  
"Oh sweet, we doing a hair thing?" Pearl asked.  
  
"Tentacle," Eight enforced.  
  
"Oh sweet, we doing a _hair_ thing?" Pearl repeated, like a jerk.  
  
Marina nodded. "Eight asked if we could do something with her hair, so I looked into it. Also, what is that you're wearing?"  
  
"It's a cloak!" Eight did another spin. Whoosh! Man, watching the tail of her cloak spin around her would never get old. "There was a store that made clothing, and the lady there made me this cloak! Oh, and check out the back!" She spun around to show off the dark purple 8 logo on the back. "What do you think?"  
  
Marina nodded. "It looks great! I... I might actually be jealous of this. That's a new one."  
  
Pearl laughed. "Yeah, right? It's way cooler under low light, you can see her glowies light up." Oh, were they not visible right now? Awww. "But it is _cool_. Might need a trenchcoat or something to keep up with it. She's just so... _Style_." You can't use that word like that, also thank you.  
  
Three on the other hand... Was she blushing again? "That. Um. Nice. It's nice. The. Um. Red. And. _Yeah_. The. Y'know. Yeah. I mean. You. Cloak. Nice. It. Yeah." Was she sick or something? She was making less sense than usual. Eight leaned in and felt Three's forehead. Man, she felt hot... IN A PURELY PLATONIC WAY NOT ANYTHING ELSE SHUT UP. Three's random babble sped up. "HERE. IT. UM. YOU. I FOUND. GIFT." Her arm suddenly sprung out with...  
  
What were those? It was a cone of purple paper with something inside it. They were... "... You got me flowers?" There were an array of pinkish flowers on the edge that had yellowy dotted petals, a ring of bright yellow flowers inside that with more petals than Eight had seen on others, and in the center was a pure white flower with a yellow center. "... You got me flowers." Marina looked on quietly. Meanwhile, Pearl was grinning like she'd never smiled at anything before.  
  
Three seemed flustered. "I mean, the other day, you, um. Said you'd never seen 'em before, so I, uh, y'know, nipped over to a flower shop and snagged a few." She was quiet for a moment. Eight took the silence to breath in the smell. It was... Nice. There wasn't any comparison smell she could put up against it. It was... A smell that was _Real_. "The pink ones are alstroemeria, and they symbolize good fortune. The yellow ones are yellow roses, for. Uh. Friendship. And the center one is a daisy. Means new beginnings. Do, you... Um. Like it?"  
  
She loved it. This was... She... Eight grabbed Three in a hug. "I've never gotten _anything_ like this before. I... I... I don't know what to say." It. She'd just gone and gotten these for her. Like it... Like she... "I... Thank you."  
  
More orange flushed under Three's skin. "A-Anyways! I got a vase too." She slapped the side of her satchel thingy, which did seem a bit bulkier than it had before. "So ya have somewhere to throw 'em."  
  
Eight was silent for a moment before releasing Three from her hug. "... Thank you, Three."  
  
Three gave a weak smile. "... No problem. You said you wanted something real. So... Real."  
  
Eight smiled back. "... Real." She took another sniff. Smelled like freedom.  
  
"Oi, _lovebirds_! We done here, or do you wanna pine at each other for the next thirty years?"  
  
 _ **PEARL WAS A VERY EVIL WOMAN WHO NOBODY LIKED BECAUSE SHE WAS ALWAYS RUINING MOMENTS LIKE A MOMENT RUINER AND MARINA WAS ALSO VERY EVIL BECAUSE SHE LAUGHED AT LOTS OF THINGS UGH WHY WAS SHE FRIENDS WITH ANY OF THEM.**_  
  
Moment thoroughly ruined, the four of them traveled up the other side of The Reef. "Yeah, some _assholes_ took our original parking spot, so we had to drive all the way around to get a new spot," Pearl explained as they went. "Not all bad though, we got to sing Woman For All Seasons like six times." Without even looking at each other, both Inklings managed a high five.  
  
Eight sniffed her flowers again. Real. "So where are we headed next? I mean, we got everything, right?" She hoped they did. Otherwise, it'd be a pain running back into The Reef.  
  
Marina nodded slowly. "I think so. If not, we can can come back tomorrow. As for where we're headed next... The only request Three made back when we were in Arowana was that we stop at MakoMart for some groceries. I figure that if you still want to stay with her... Do you _actually_ want to stay with her?" Eight looked down at the bundle of flowers in her hands and then back at Marina. "Fair enough. If you still want to stay with her, you should at least have some proper food in there so you don't starve."  
  
"Yeah. Last time I had a proper meal was... Fuck, probably before I went on that whole stupid trip in the first place," Three said. She stretched her arms above her head, and Eight tried not to stare. "Not sure what kind of stuff I want to get, or what Eight wants. Might have to see when we get there." Hmm... Oh, she knew!  
  
"I want pancakes!" Yummy yummy in her tummy give it to her give it to her pancake delight!  
  
Three nodded. "Yeah, I can do pancakes. Maybe some ice cream as well..."  
  
"ICE CREAM?" Marina said suddenly. "YOU MEAN THE DESSERT THAT'S BETTER THAN CAKE?"  
  
"YOU ONLY WON BECAUSE YOU WERE MORE POPULAR! CAKE IS SO GOOD, IF I HAD SOME RIGHT NOW I'D BE EATING IT SO LOUDLY YOU'D VOMIT." Pearl yelled.  
  
"LALALA CAN'T HEAR YOU CHAPTER 3 PARAGRAPH 5!"  
  
"Pancakes!" Eight yelled. Both Pearl and Marina gasped in absolute shock, like the worthless feckless FOOLS that they were! "I don't know what ice cream or cake is, but I know that pancakes are _way_ better than either of them!"  
  
Three sighed dramatically. Wait, let Eight fix that sentence. Three sighed normally. "I'm staying out of this argument."  
  
"No! You have to choose!" Eight declared, feeling irrationally prideful over her choice. "And whoever Three picks, gets to pick... Um. Something! They get to pick something!"  
  
Marina nodded slowly. "First pick of the snacks, maybe?"  
  
A loud, tired sigh left Three's mouth again. Sorry. Let Eight fix that too. A sigh left Three's mouth. "Alright then... Cake comes in last. It's too malleable. The traditional cake - the one that you claim is superior - is actually very limited. The further you alter a cake, the less cake-like it becomes, until it becomes less a cake and more another form of confectionry. In a sense, you could call it prone to shapeshifting."  
  
Pearl snapped her fingers in disgust. "Three, you start making sense _right now,_ " Marina growled. "Ice cream. Pancakes are legally a cake, so I win, right?"  
  
Three gave Marina a look that implied she was like a very small, very slow child. "No. Pancakes are not 'legally cakes'. They're also better than ice cream. Ice cream can only be eaten cold, and it can hurt your head if you eat it wrong. Pancakes, on the other hand, are delicious warm _or_ cold, and can be covered in multiple toppings." Her gaze went icy cold. "I thought you were supposed to be a scientist, Ida. An intelligent person. I ain't your biggest fucking fan, but I at least respected your mind. But I guess that shit went down the drain as well."  
  
"So... Pancakes?" Pearl asked.  
  
"Yeah." YES! Eight won! Now... What kind of snacks did she want? And furthermore... What were snacks? Hmmm... Three made a face for a moment. "Fucking... Can't remember what we were talking about."  
  
Silence. Eight narrowed her eyes. "I think it was MakoMart?"  
  
For some reason, this made Pearl start singing. "When you're low on stuff, ya don't got enough, don't worry or stall, just give us a call!" At this point, Marina joined in. Three also joined, but more grumblingly than actual singing. "Come and have a new start! At MAKO MART! Take a bite outta prices!"  
  
"FUCK THAT ENTIRE THEME SONG," Three snarled angrily.  
  
"It's so awful," Marina sighed.  
  
"I hate it so much," Pearl told Eight. "It's the best."  
  
Eight felt terribly confused about MakoMart. Come and have a new start. "Oh, no. It's stuck in my head! Is this going to do something terrible and brainwash me?!" Oh, she already hated this. When you're low on stuff... ARGH, IT WAS STUCK. "Pearl! Marina! Three! You're all awful people!" Don't worry or stall, just give dah dah dah, RRRRRAAAAAGH!  
  
Marina patted Eight on the head as they exited back onto the street, almost right next to the car. "It won't brainwash you into doing anything except singing the song every day for six months." Eight hated them all. She hopped into the car as Marina threw her bag into the kettle-trunk. Three hopped in next to her, yawning tiredly. Take a bite outta prices. She hated it so much. "Alright. We're almost homefree... Just to MakoMart, and then to wherever Three lives. What song is up next?"  
  
A quiet hum came from Pearl in the driver's seat. "Uh... No song. You've listened to everything." WHAT?! She'd listened to all the Squid Sisters songs?! But there had to be more! There just had to be! "All six albums and ten singles. We're all out." NOOOO! Marina seemed just as upset as she closed the door next to them. It couldn't be! She needed MOOORREEEE!  
  
Three grinned. "Oh. Oh, you don't _know_. I thought so."  
  
"What are you talking about, you arrogant fuck?" Marina groaned.  
  
Three leaned forwards in the car and plugged her phone into the radio thingy. "About a month after everything went down, Callie and Marie got contracted for a movie soundtrack. It was meant to be a big tie-in for that new game, Demons Mustn't Cry or something." She tapped something on her phone before sitting back down. "The tie-in deal failed, and the entire movie deal fell through. They managed to make the music though, it just never got released anywhere."  
  
Wait. Did that mean... "Seventh album?!" Eight gasped.  
  
"Seventh album," Three replied.  
  
Pearl started the car and hit the music. An overwhelming track of rock filled the car as they set off towards their next destination, MakoMart! Eight wasn't a super big fan of it, but Squid Sisters music was really cool. The lyrics were kinda weird, though. It must've been to fit the movie, she guessed...  
  
 _"All of these voices inside my head! By my side, turning burning red! Frus-Tra-Tion is gettin' bigger! BANG BANG BANG! Pull my Devil Trigger!"_


	6. Take A Bite Out Of Prices At Mako Mart!

_A DJ of Intelligence_   
_The Captain's friend, to her she tends,_   
_Their love, they held so relevant._   
  
_You wore your face like a blank mask,_   
_So quiet, kind, kept us in mind._   
_But you put us first, and work last._   
  
_They told her to watch, don't be slow._   
_Off went the lights, my mind afright,_   
_How tragic that you fell below_   
  
_It seemed to you a sly attack_   
_But for your pains you made no gains_   
_You only got shot in the back_   
  
_Finality's not what it seems._   
_When your end comes, rise up and run._   
_Don't let defeat dissolve your dreams._   
  
_When you left, I felt some strange tears_   
_The beat goes on, just one last song_   
_Your death, the start of all my fears._   
  
_\---_

  
  
Eight tapped on her phone.  
  
For once, having claws was actually a distraction. They scratched the screen far too easily, and they made loud clacking noises when they hit the screen. At least she got to try out her new phone! She'd downloaded a bunch of... What did Marina call them... Oh yeah. Apps. She started with stuff like a calculator and a calendar and an app to make notes in... She also had a music app but she didn't have any music yet. Apparently you had to download songs for that.  
  
She'd made an email account - redshooter@seamail.sea, and used it to make accounts on her new apps. She'd tried Freshbook, but apparently only Pearl used that, and only to advertise for shows. Then there was Bubblr, which was apparently a renamed Sea-Twitter after somebody bought it out in the last twenty four hours. It was pretty cool! She'd already made her first Bubble!  
  
 **Sens8tional** _@agenteight_  
i am 8 inkopolis is cool  
  
 **DJ_Hyperfresh** _@marinaida_  
Heck yes it is! Nice to meet you on Bubblr, Eight!  
  
 **Death Comes Thrice** _@iwtatrinamorgue_  
hey  
  
 **The Chosen One** _@calliecuttlefishofficial_  
YAAAY! More of the crew! That makes five of us now... Marie, how many members would we need to field a baseball team???  
  
 **Marie Two: Electric Boogaloo** _@mariecuttlefishofficial_  
more than we have. also, nice to meet you online eight. remember to set a profile picture.  
  
 **Pearlescent** _@pearlhozuki_  
AYO ITS EIGHTO nice to see ya kiddo  
  
 **DJ_Hyperfresh** _@marinaida_  
PEARLIE EYES ON THE ROAD  
  
 **Player Four** _@fyrakaleofficial_  
YOOO! Eight, ditch the loser and come hang out with us! Ranked is super fun!  
  
 **Death Comes Thrice** _@iwtatrinamorgue_  
she has standards fyra  
  
 **The Chosen One** _@calliecuttlefishofficial_  
OHHHHHHHHHHHH SNAP SON <('o')>  
  
She'd messed around with it a bit more, but she moved onto HueTube. It had videos! With videos of splatbattling and weapons reviews... It was great! Eight liked it. There was also some animated stuff and something called a vlog? Which wasn't a real word. Duh. Oh, and Instaclam! She took a few photos of herself, and then with permission, Pearl and Marina. Three politely refused, on grounds that she was not a fan of photos.  
  
Oh, and there were GAMES! Something called Pokemon GO, which had little cute creatures in it! Aah, she wanted to die they were so cute! She'd already caught something called an Eevee, which was perfect! She named it Pearl. Because it was small and noisy. A game called Fruit Ninja that she was TERRIBLE at, because her claws kept scratching the screen! Bluh. After a while her battery started getting low, so she plugged it into her solar charger - the Surface was great - and put it aside. According to Pearl they were pretty close to MakoMart anyhow.  
  
"What is MakoMart anyways?" Eight asked. Her friends responded with The Song. Eight was getting pretty tired of the song. She'd think it was brainwashing if not for how much they hated it.  
  
"It's a grocery store," Pearl explained as she turned a corner. "They got loads of food. Snacks, fruit, dessert, all kinds of crap. It's great. My family actually owns part of it. It's why the old mascot got replaced with Mikey The Mako."  
  
Marina made a low growling noise, like this was a point of contention. "I hate Mikey. He's the worst."  
  
"He's good!"  
  
Three didn't even look up from her phone. "Mikey is an incarnation of the bleakest depths. His gaze is void of mind, nothing more than a thousand empty souls hungering for more. His death will bring joy, a fleeting happiness before he returns to haunt us." Dark. Also, did she come up with that off the top of her head? Because it sounded pretty rad. "I can't even believe some shitheads thought Mikey was a good fucking idea. Fucking shitheads."  
  
Ah. Three was swearing again.  
  
"He's GOOD!"  
  
Marina nodded. "Yeah! Pearl, don't make me agree with Three! Mikey looks like a guy who unironically wears that lure thing to attract mates."  
  
OOOHH! Eight remembered that thing. It'd been on Three's hip the entire time in Octo Valley. She didn't even seem to notice until Sector 3. That had been... Um. Very... _Interesting_. Really interesting... Eight caught herself before her thoughts dove back into the gutter. ANYWAYS. Eight didn't really even know why Inklings needed the things. Octarians had discarded those years ago in favour of giving gifts, since those were infinitely more useful. Maybe it was a Surface thing...  
  
Pearl groaned angrily. "Mikey is cool!" The car suddenly dipped down and drove into a tunnel, into a large car park, like what'd been behind the Inkbargains store. It was brightly lit, and filled with various trucks and cars. "My _mom_ came up with Mikey! Are you telling me that my MOM isn't cool, Marina?"  
  
Marina groaned tiredly as the car came to a stop. "Your mother is GREAT, I love her, but she has no taste in anything, Pearlie. Your mother thinks that pink and black camo print is a wonderful idea." Just hearing that said out loud hurts Eight's hearts. It really does. It'd be more stealthy to wear that bright yellow safety jacket that Three wore, honestly. "She wears a track suit made entirely out of felt, she can't be sane! Mikey is an abomination!"  
  
"YEAH, WELL. YOUR. FACE IS AN ABOMINATION!"  
  
"Oh, Pearlie... I never knew you liked making out with acts against god."  
  
"THAT IS NOT FAIR!"  
  
Three and Eight climbed out of the car as the two musicians argued. "So... What are we here for exactly? Like, in specifics."  
  
Three pulled out her phone. Oh, there was a list of things on there... Some of it looked really nice! "I'm doing a two-week shop, since I'm out of everything. Some breakfasts, some lunches and dinners... I dunno, I usually work this out as I go." Oooh... Was that the ice cream Eight had heard so much about? She leaned close over Three's shoulder, staring at all the cool foods. "A-And, the, _um_. It's a. I, I, I need some essentials like eggs! And flour! To make cake and stuff! For celebrate! CelebraTIONS! Cause you're. On the Surface. With everyone else. That's normal. And the. You, um. It."  
  
OH! Really?! She wanted to make something for Eight personally? "You really mean it?" Eight asked breathily, right into Three's ear. Something in her felt incredibly pleased at the bright orange blush that spread across Three's face.  
  
"YES! I. YOU! THE." She pushed away and nodded frantically, barely able to get a single word out. Three nodded a few times, made some more nonverbal noises, and then slammed her fist down on the car roof. "HEY. YOU. OUT. SHOPPING. THE NOW." Both musicians got out of the car and gave Three a look positively brimming with interest.  
  
"Do you care to explain?" Pearl said simply. Three shook her head rapidly, blush intensifying slightly. The musician sighed and looked at Eight seriously. "Y'know, she's not gonna be able to buy groceries if you scramble her brains." Huh? What was Pearl talking about? Both musicians shook their head as they walked away from the car. Eight grabbed Three's hand and ran after them, dragging the poor agent along with her.  
  
The parking lot was fairly large, with what seemed like more cars than she'd seen outside parked into the little lines. The only thing that happened of note as they walked across the parking lot was... "Is that a Grate?" Marina asked suddenly. And yeah, it was. A small steel grate in the corner of the parking lot, tucked away so well that it seemed more like a drainage ditch. Three nodded, and mentioned it was the entrance to Octo Ridge. At which point Marina nodded firmly, and started yelling. "BOO OCTO RIDGE! HOWZIT FEEL TO LOSE SIX TIMES IN A ROW! BOOOO!"  
  
Wait, Octo Ridge? Oh yeah, Eight remembered those guys. They never got ANY major assignments - the entire place was dead, militarily speaking. Getting assigned there was basically a free vacation, since there was nothing to do. "Hey Octo Ridge! You're all lazy halfwit fools!" Eight cheered loudly. "Try and keep up for once, losers!"  
  
Marina laughed and gave Eight a high five. Pearl looked extremely disorientated as they stepped into a large elevator at the far wall of the parking lot. "Do I... Want to know what that was about?"  
  
"You don't," Three warned. Hmph. Darn Three, spoiling their fun... The elevator doors closed, and a weirdly perky tune started wafting into the elevator. _Doo doo doo, doo doo doo, doo doo doo DOO doo doo,_ it was pretty catchy! It definitely helped offset the CREEP factor of it having mirrors on all sides, reflecting into infinity! "Alright. First off, we're ignoring Aisles 1 and 8 first. They're right next to the checkouts, so we can hit those last."  
  
Eight nodded slowly. That made sense... She guessed. "So we're heading to snacks first, right? Because I won the argument back at The Reef."  
  
"You get first picks," Pearl agreed.  
  
Marina nodded. "Yup! We're going to have a BLAST, Eight! There are _so many_ delicious foods here on the Surface!"  
  
The doors opened, and the four of them stepped out. As Three darted away for a moment, Eight took the chance to look at this MakoMart. There were several table thingies coloured yellow, with big signs attached to poles designating them as a number. In the distance, she could see what looked like a Turf War going on, kids Superjumping and shooting at high speed. "Uh... Are they meant to be there?" Eight asked nervously.  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yeah, it's around four PM. MakoMart runs matches from now until... Ten, when the lobby closes. Turf until 6, Ranked until 8, League until the lobby and the store close. It's a big promotion thing." Huh. Weird. It was a seperate area from the rest of the store, an island separated entirely from the rest of the store. Three split for a moment and retrieved a weird looking cart. It was meshy and cagey, instead of the solid plasticy tub carts you found in the markets in the Domes. "Aight, Three got us a cart, let's go do our part!"  
  
They walked around the large island area, the sound of splat weapons echoing towards them. There were some alleys between the actual Turf area and the walls of the building, but they were kind of narrow. "Alright then," Three sighed. "Let's get to work. Aisle Two, snacks and confectionry."  
  
Aisle Two was a RAINBOW and Eight LOVED IT. The aisle extended almost ten meters long, filled with colourful packaging and logos. Not a single space wasted, with the end of each isle having a big stand thing filled with products. It was great! Eight wanted to try EVERYTHING HERE. "Here it is, Eight. The land of dreams," Marina whispered. She sounded joyous, the sound of tears starting to fall! Eight could feel the same way. "A million delicious treats, of all kinds! Chocolate and candy and chips and popcorn! A true paradise of food!"  
  
YES! "It's so beautiful... I wanna try everything!" Eight whispered. Pearl darted away for a moment, mumbling to herself. "And... And I get to pick the first thing?" Eight asked Marina.  
  
"Yes. We're here for you, Eight. That's all today has been." Her steps seemed to echo in the store, even over the tacky music that was playing and the sound of the Turf War behind them, the rattle of the shopping carts, everything just... Dropped to zero. And it was just her. Maybe... Ooh. Kitkatfish Chunky Gooey Caramel? That looked nice... Oh, or maybe some of those ones that were labeled as Marlins? Hmm... "Get whatever you want, okay?"  
  
Three gave a quiet grunt. "Don't go overboard. You won't be able to eat all of this in one day, and if you try, you'll get a stomach ache. Not worth it." Well, you see. Here's the thing. Eight had this really good idea, and it was called **IGNORING THREE FOREVER FOR BEING A FOOL!** MWAHAHAHAH! According to the sign at the top of the aisle, some of this was that awful traitorous chocolate... But she would give it one more chance to redeem itself... TO RISE ABOVE ITS MISDEEDS. "Fucking hell, she's gonna have a fucking sugar crash. I can tell."  
  
As Eight grabbed a dozen of each chocolate bar, including another one called Bubble - the wrapper had the word there with pictures of loads of bubbles - she heard Marina laugh. "Eh. It'll be a lesson. Trust me, she'll have to learn it at some point. My first crash was after eating my weight in ice cream." Oh, could they get that too?! They had to get that too. Ooh, what was that? A block of... Something called Rocko? The back of the wrapper said it was something called rocky road... Yeah, she'd try that one out as well! "Eight, make sure to put things you want in the cart!"  
  
"Don't throw it in Three's cart!" Pearl yelled as she zoomed by on another cart. She skidded to a halt, turning sideways and doing a sick slide as she did so, three trails of dust kicking up from the floor. "Hell yeah. Two years of practice. Anyways, throw all your stuff in here! Otherwise Three won't have room to fit the rest of her groceries in there!"  
  
Oh. Right. Space and stuff. Eight forgot you needed stuff like that. Hmm... Oh, what about that one? A block of something called Turbo? "Be careful," Three warned. "Turbo is fucking Kelpwhip in a chocolate can, it'll send you into overdrive." Eight could _totally_ handle it! She didn't need warnings! She could eat whatever she wanted! No consequences! Turbo chocolate looked good... Huh? What was this stuff? It said chocolate, but it's not brown? Huh?  
  
Marina shook her head. "White chocolate. It stands for lies, hate, and gluttony... It's a prayer to the false gods of this world." False gods?! How can they sell it like this?! Come to think of it, it even looks different on the packaging! Smooth and ivory white, how weird! "You can't trust anybody who likes white chocolate, Eight. Even if you yourself hate chocolate, people who prefer the white variety are invariably crazy and weird."  
  
Pearl yelled. "I LIKE WHITE CHOCOLATE!"  
  
"Wasn't talking about you, sweetie!"  
  
Three slammed her head against the... Push. Handle. Thing. Of the cart. Shut up, Eight's great at words. "Please. Stop."  
  
"White chocolate is great!"  
  
"I know you think it is, Pearlie."  
  
"It IS great!"  
  
Three gave a Dramatic Sigh, put one foot on the cart, and then pushed off the ground with the other. Wooahh, it's like she's flying! "White chocolate is gross," Three proclaimed as she flew off into the distant horizon. Well... Whatever. Eight was still going to try it! It looked interesting! The wrapper thing said it was Crunchy Nut Urchocolate White. Huh... Eight wanted ten! She hurled it all into the cart without even looking! Yeah, authority sucks! Haha! By the time she'd filled up the cart with all the interesting chocolates, she'd almost covered the entire bottom. Good... Now to continue the search for snacks!  
  
Pearl pushed the chocolate shopping cart forwards until they left the chocolate section, the dark browns and golds of the wrappers being replaced with chromatic packaging. Both Pearl and Marina waved dramatically, introducing Eight to a variety of something called... Crisps. Though something was definitely off here... Three was glaring at the top shelf. The sort of glare you saw on the face of a person who had lost their child, face to face with the man responsible. The sort of fury you saw on the King of a nation on the brink. It was _Rage_ in expression form. "Um... Is something wrong?"  
  
"FUCK EVERY FUCKING SHITTY PERSON WHO EVER FUCKING WORKED A SHITTY FUCKING RETAIL JOB," Three snarled furiously. "FUCK EACH AND EVERY FUCKING LAST ONE OF THEM I HOPE THEY ALL FUCKING DIE!" Um.  
  
Marina let out a low whistle. " _Wow,_ Three. Way to lower my opinion of you even further."  
  
She figured she should see if it was possible to defuse Three. "Do... You care to explain?"  
  
Three's finger pointed directly up. It was a light pink bag of the crisps, labeled as 'Smitty's Crisps'. The bag also said salt and vinegar on it, with a picture of some of the product next to it. Weird, it looked crinkly like paper... "IT'S A FUCKING ATTACK AGAINST ME PERSONALLY. FUCKING RETAIL WORKERS. SHITTY FUCKING PEOPLE. I HATE THEM ALL." Oh. Could she... Could she not reach them? That was... It was... Kinda funny! Eight giggled and retrieved a pair of the pink bags from the top shelf, placing them inside Three's cart. "... Eight?"  
  
The look on Three's face was nothing short of awestruck. "Is there anything else on a high shelf you want me to get?" Three shook her head dumbly. "Okay then! Just let me know, okay?" Now then, what were all these crisp thingies... The ingredients thing on the back had one of the major components of all of them as something called potato... But what was potato? ... Eh. Eight didn't care. It looked delicious, so it was all hers!  
  
Maybe a Natural Fish Tar-- What. Tartar? What the... _**TARTAR?!**_ WHAT?! "Oh. That," Pearl winced. "Yeah, uh... Tartar is an ingredient here." What the... That's _gross!_ Who would wanna eat all that nasty green goop from Kamabo?! Natural Fish Tartar Flavour?! Gross!  
  
Marina stepped forwards. "No, it's nothing to do with Kamabo! Tartar is a seasoning up here! You put it on fish, to make it tastier!" ... What? That's even more gross! Gross gross groooosssss! Why would anybody put that stuff on anything! Gross! Eight wanted nothing to do with that! Maybe grab something not even of the same brand? Yeah, that'd do it... Hmm. Maybe she should try those chips that Three wanted to get? "Tartar sauce is great! It's not evil!" NOPE! Eight made up her mind you ruined it!  
  
There sure were a lot of different flavours though... Original, Cheese & Onion, something called BBQ? According to Pearl it was a way to prepare meat...? Weird. Sea Salt, who wanted to taste the ocean? Sweet Chilli & Sour Cream, sounded nice, she got a few of those... Huh. Curlies? What were those? "Cardboard advertised as food," Three explained. "They're bits of orange fluff that you eat, and they're called Curlies because they look curly." Oh. Okay... Hmm... Eight wanted ten. As Eight threw them into Pearl's cart, she heard Three sigh dramatically. _"Why."_  
  
"Cause it looks good."  
  
Hm... Oh, what were those? "Healthy chips," Pearl said as Eight approached something called Wheat Waves. They kinda looked rectangular... "They're not bad, but they're also like. Not as good as normal chips." Huh... So they were BETTER than normal crisps? Eight wanted loads of them! Maybe she was being a bit too greedy, but who cared! Her friends were willing to treat her, so it was fine! Wait, what were... What were those ones? They were the same flavours as the others, but they weren't crinkly? Huh?  
  
"Thins and crinklecut," Marina told her. That. That was weird. Why make two kinds of chip? That. If you had one type of chip, why make another? Was it more efficient? If she fished out one of the bags she had and compared the ingredients... No, they were the exact same! So why would they make multiple kinds of chip then? And if they were the same, why package them differently? Were they so different as to require that kind of packaging?!  
  
Not to mention, there were other kinds of packaging too! Not just bags - there was a tin up near the top called Mr Ringles... As far as she could tell, there wasn't any difference between it and a normal bag, so why bother... "'Cause the tube adds flavour," Pearl told her. Unless the tube was coated in food, that's _impossible_. How could a tube add flavour??? Oh, and that wasn't even mentioning the other kinds of crisps she'd found! Something called Fried Fries, where they were little sticks but still chips, and another one called Triangulos, where they were kind of orangey and triangular. Apparently those were corn chips, and an entirely different subject.  
  
But they were still CRISPS. How did. You couldn't. That wasn't how. Fine. FINE. Eight got it. This... Was all a PLOY. To _confuse_ her into buying EVERY KIND OF CRISP IN THE STORE. And like. It was _working_. Because she was _totally_ gonna do that, that was like. Heck yeah. Food. But it was still a really rude and evil thing to do! "Fine. I get it. I'm not smart enough to understand these TWISTED GAMES that are being played with my mind. But why do we need all this variety? Isn't one good enough?" Everyone with her shook their heads. Traitors. PAWNS. OF THE MAKOMART SCHEME. "None of this makes any sense at all, and I hate it, but I know I can't understand it. So. I'm just. Going to pile everything into the snack cart, and move on with my life."  
  
A gentle hand fell on her shoulder. Marina nodded solemnly. "A wise choice, my friend." Pearl did not remove the bags from the shelf so much as she held out her arm and pushed them into the cart, which was good, since it saved Eight the trouble. She had good friends. Her trial ended, they continued down this dark hall of madness and despair.  
  
Truly, its ensnaring mind was strong, as even Three paused to snag a bag of something called Dapperzap Sherbet off of a product hook. Insidious... Though that didn't exactly tell her what any of this stuff was though. Stuff called Gummy Animals and weird spiralling contraptions called lollipops... She had best keep her footsteps light. "Here we are, Eight," Pearl whispered. "The part of the store that enslaved Marina for the better part of a year." What?! What sort of _sick_ _twisted_ game was this store running?!  
  
"I like licorice! That's not a crime!" Marina protested.  
  
"Reena, I caught you buying the stuff at _two in the morning_ wearing a hoodie and sunglasses like you were afraid I'd find out," Pearl snickered. Eight would laugh, except that sounded like a really really good idea... If she had the cash, she could buy as much snacks as she wanted and nobody would ever find out about it... "Eight, don't even think about it." BOOO!  
  
Bluh. Stupid friends. Anyways. There were like, at least twenty products that had the word 'Gummy' written on them somewhere. Gummy Fish, Gummy Urchins, Gummy Judds, Gummy _Gummies_... How that last one worked, she had no clue. She still threw one of each into the snack cart. The Snack Shrine. Oh man, she was gonna eat everything in there! It was gonna be great! What else, what else was there... Oh, what about those lollipops? Hm... Some of them were weirdly rounded, called Pufferfish Pops. They were stuff like strawberry and raspberry and chocolate and vanilla and caramel and... That was it.  
  
The other kind were just flat discs of candy, swirling rainbow vortexes of colour. Eight kind of wasn't a big fan, but also, she wanted a hundred. So... Toss those into the cart! "What's sherbet?" Eight asked as she came face to face with a row of packages reading 'Dapperzap Sherbet'. Each one bore the mark of a Zapfish wearing a top hat. Very dapper, or it would be if Eight knew what that word meant.  
  
"It's sugar but edible," Three said suddenly. Bluh! Eight had almost forgotten that she was here. And Eight didn't know what sugar was. Nevertheless, she pulled five packs of it into the cart. Ooh, what was this licorice stuff? "Actual disease in food form."  
  
"It's GOOD," Marina snarled. "Wouldn't expect you to understand."  
  
"I understand that it's gross, and only creepy fucks eat that shit." Ooh, Eight got a bad feeling this was going to go badly.  
  
"EXCUSE YOU?!"  
  
"LICORICE SUCKS." Eight ignored the screech of rage and threw a few packs of black and red licorice into the snack cart, since she wanted to try that as well. Ooh, maybe some of those little fruity chews? "Anyways, snack aisle is almost done..."  
  
Pearl laughed. "YOU WISH! WE GOT THE DRINK AISLE NEXT!"  
  
"Yeah, but like. I'm just grabbing a gatorade." Three paused and knocked a purple box into her cart. Eight noticed it said _SHAPES_ on the front, and was shaped like an hourglass. According to the box, they were pizza flavoured. Huh. There seemed to be a bunch of weird stuff over here. "Grab some biscuits, they're all good." Really? Well... What were Savoury? Or Roast Tuna? Nacho Cheese, these were some weird flavours, she had to say. She wanted all of them. It was great! Hmm... The cart was getting pretty full... It was almost halfway full!  
  
Pearl nodded as Eight threw in the last box of crackers. "Aight! Now we can go grab some sweet drinks!"  
  
Aisle Three, the Drink Isle, was just as colourful and odd as the last aisle had been. Also, it was weird that it was just the same word as 'Isle', but with an extra letter attached. Maybe it was an Inkling thing, but even then, that was weird. "There's loads of kinds of drinks!" Pearl explained to her. "Soda, juice, cordial, stuff like that! It's all really good! There's also stuff like tea or coffee, but nobody likes those."  
  
"I like those," Marina replied. "Tea is nice. It's delicious and warm."  
  
"It's _leaf water,_ Marina."  
  
"It's good! It's delicious! Much better than coffee!"  
  
Three swore loudly. "Oh, _you_ **stupid** _**FUCK!** "_  
  
Ah, _there_ it was. Eight had been wondering when this sort of thing would happen. It had been a while since their last fight. "Oh, did I strike a _nerve?_ I suppose coffee _would_ be your speed, Three. It _is_ a more _boring_ drink, after all. How do you drink it? With five sugars?"  
  
"Black like _my soul_ ," Three replied furiously. "And at least coffee has a _kick_. Tea is leaf water, and even if you deny otherwise, it's not even tasty. It's bland, and more to the point, nobody actually likes it! It's a pretentious drink, that only pretentious idiots drink!"  
  
Marina laughed. "Oh, you would think that. And coffee is so refined? It's not! Judging by your own sloppiness, it's probably not even proper coffee!"  
  
"And? Just because I don't buy myself a coffee machine doesn't mean I don't like proper coffee!" Three pulled a bottle of something green into her cart, called 'Green Crush'. Unlike the cart that Pearl had, everything in Three's cart was neatly organized and standing. It was... Nice. "And at least I don't have to pay out the nose for it. It's all cheap, and it's easily stored. All your tea comes in boxes so big you could only fit ten of them inside my cupboards."  
  
"You keep coffee in your cupboards?" Pearl mumbled more to herself. "Where do you keep the cups?"  
  
"The cupboard," Three replied.  
  
Eight could see Pearl mouth what Three had just said to her, like she wasn't entirely sure of what Three was talking about. While Three and Marina were having their spat, Eight looked over the drinks aisle. Some of this stuff was weird... Cordial seemed to be made of something called syrup... And fruit? Okay... So this stuff was like the drinks at the Crust Bucket! Okay then! Ooh, Blackcurrant... Apple Peach sounded weird, but that too! Uh... What was Tropical? According to the back of the jug, it was a mix of orange, pineapple and passionfruit. Sounded nice. That one too! And then...  
  
What was Red? What _was_ that? The back of the jug just said it had 'Red Flavouring', with no actual flavour details included. Hm... Yeah, whatevs. She'd try that one as well. Though... Compared to Three's cart, if Eight put anything more into the snacks cart, all the chips and chocolates and stuff would get crushed by the weight. It wasn't neat enough. Would Three mind if Eight threw them into her cart?  
  
"TEA IS SO DELICIOUS YOU CRY!"  
  
"COFFEE IS SUPERIOR, SINCE IT ELICITS NO EMOTIONS!"  
  
Yeah, Three was paying _no_ attention at all. Eight threw her cordials into Three's cart and arranged them more neatly. Right, now that that was done... Next up was something called juice. It seemed similar to the cordial? But a lot more... Juicey? Was that a word? It was mostly the same as the cordial, but it was in big bottles with no handles instead of the jugs. There were a lot of them. More simple, though - they were single pure flavours, with nothing weird like tropical or apple peach or whatever. Something called, um... Chuckie's Quencher Fresh Juice? Uh...  
  
Weird? She checked the ingredients list, but it didn't seem to contain anything other than water and preservatives. And dye. Maybe it was a scam or something? Weird... Hmm. Some of these drinks were really weird, speaking honestly. Ooh, what were these? Energy drinks, huh? Emerald Seacow? Looked like a fancy drink. It had a picture of a cool cow thing on it. And... Beast energy drinks? Oh, was this that Gatorade stuff? It sounded really... Really... Uh... Uh.  
  
Pretentious. 'G-Active Electrolyte Berry Boom Blast' was a big mouthful. Most of them were like that. Tropical Crushnado, Mountain Blue Storm, Gold Lemon Earthquake. Stuff that was really weird. Three didn't even blink as she threw one into her cart, continuing her argument with Marina. Weird... And also, there was this copycat one called Powerade. It had similar names and flavours, none of which really made any level of sense. Tropical Crasherricane, Mountain Blue Thunder, Gold Lemon Shudder... It was like a really bad knockoff. She felt kind of upset for the Gatorade people.  
  
She would try a few of the Tropical Crushnado... And the Mountain Blue Storm. But that was it. Most of these seemed really weird. So. She wasn't gonna touch them. Mostly because their Absolute Sports Factor was kind of terrifying. Some cans called Z Tortured Orchid Apple Blitz. Something called Fangta? It looked kind of violently orange. And a literal entire shelf of some black soft drink called Carpa Cola. There was a box of something called Panga on the floor, with a blue-red-white logo, but it had just kind of been left there to be picked at.  
  
Everything after that though, looked like something a _noble_ might drink. Like it had fancy curly writing and a diagonal label and a cork on the top, and a name like 'Bettavoi Luxuria Press'. "What the actual heck does that mean?" Eight whispered to herself. The bottle itself gave no information - it seemed to think that Luxuria was a flavour...  
  
"It is." BLUH! Pearl! Don't sneak up on people like that! Pearl grabbed the bottle and laughed. "Man, it's been a while since I saw this stuff. Luxuria is the name of this fancy grape out in the countryside." Wait. Grapes? Was this... Was this _alcohol?!_ Oh no! Eight scrambled back rapidly. Nope! Eight was not into drinking like that! Alcohol was the worst kind of drink! Everything her Captain had ever told her about it was about how it blinded your mind, and ruined your thoughts!  
  
"Alcohol?!"  
  
"Yeah. It's light stuff, though."  
  
Nope! Eight wasn't interested in this anymore! Was there anything else in the aisle? There... Didn't seem to be anything, aside from big boxes filled with the cans of soft drink she'd already seen. Bluh. Okay, she was done here! Time to move on!  
  
"COFFEE IS AT LEAST FLAVOURFUL! YOU FUCK!"  
  
"TEA IS FLAVOURFUL! YOU JUST HAVE DEAD TASTE BUDS!"  
  
"FUCK YOU!"  
  
Yeah, they needed to end that conversation.  
  
After grabbing the two arguing fools, Eight and Pearl managed to shift the conversation enough that the argument stopped, and they moved onto Aisle Four. Aisle Four apparently had lots of canned foods and instant meals, though Three seemed to refer to it more as The Aisle Of Useless Garbage. "More than two thirds of this aisle are useless. And this aisle also has pasta, some dry noodles, stuff that I need to make some dinners." Ooh! Some dinners? Three nodded, more to herself than anybody else. "If you want anything, just shout."  
  
Okay! Hmm... Some of this stuff was weird, but it made sense. Lots of canned things called soup. The pictures had it all as some kind of... Liquidy stuff? And some of it was labeled as chunky... Ew. That put some gross images in her head. But the flavours were weird. Potato & Leek, Butternut Pumpkin, Tofu Stockpot, Tofu Noodle, Tofu Soup, Condensed Tomato, Tomato Tofu... Lots of tofu, actually. "What's tofu?" It sounded really gross!  
  
Marina gasped. "TOFU IS THE BEST!"  
  
"It's not bad," Pearl said.  
  
"Tofu is a chemically treated abomination," Three grumbled.  
  
"TOFU IS GREAT! It's made out of soymilk, and it's a substitution meat! But what makes it really good is that when you bite into it, it doesn't taste like fish!" Wait, what? Doesn't taste like fish? How? "The cooking process makes it taste chewier, more solid. So it's the closest anybody can come to replicating the kinds of old meats that the Humans used to eat! It's super delicious!" _Oooh!_ That sounded super yummy and delicious!  
  
Which meant... Okay! "THREE!"  
  
"I am right next to you," Three said after a moment. "When I said give me a shout, I didn't mean actually shout."  
  
Oh. That makes more sense. Still though. "Can I try some of that tofu stuff?"  
  
Three folded her arms against the pushbarthingomatic of the cart and looked at the ceiling. "I _think_ I can pull a few meals off with it, yeah. But we won't get this shit." HUH?! Why not! It was here, so why not grab it while it was here?! "Listen Eight. Today, you've eaten mostly prepackaged, prefrozen crap. Half the shit at Arowana was probably prepared over a fucking week ago, and honestly, it's fucking offensive as hell. Even that pancake mix I served you this morning was fat garbage - I only keep those for emergencies, in case the power goes out."  
  
Pancakes were good though... "But everything I ate today was great?" It had been! All the donuts at Arowana, and the Seanwiches from the Crust Bucket! Not to mention the drinks! How was it all that rude word?? "Explain yourself, Three!"  
  
This sentence seemed to be _inherently offensive_ to Three, judging from the way her face seemed to contort into the physical image of suffering. "... Fucking... I know how to cook. Actual freshly made meals, with fresh ingredients." WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAAAAT?! BLUH!!! Eight darted as close as she could possibly get! Three could make EVEN BETTER food?! _What was this sorcery and magic..._ "Please don't get that close. And it's easy. Hell, I could even teach you how to cook." ... Teach Eight how to cook? You could do that?  
  
You could _TEACH_ somebody how to cook?! THIS! IT WAS! "BLUH! Three, you're amazing! You can teach me how to cook?! Please!" Three nodded and moved forward. "YAY! But, um... If you don't want any of this soup stuff, why are you still putting it in the cart?" She'd already placed ten cans of three different kinds of soup in the cart...  
  
"Emergencies," Pearl replied suddenly, looking dead serious. "Zapfish are pretty flighty guys, so if they get too overly agitated or upset? They go ZZZAAAAP! And fry the power grid. Usually takes two or three days to fix, so it's good to get some stuff that's got a longer expiration date." Oh. So like, rationing out food to people then? That made... Slightly more sense.  
  
"Speaking of that, Pearl? We need to do our own grocery shop tomorrow," Marina said. "I forgot to mention it this morning."  
  
"Eh, we'll get it delivered." Wait, you could do that? Weird.  
  
Huh? What were these? Instant Meals? "They are sinful," Three informed her in a clipped tone. "And are not to be consumed outside of emergencies."  
  
"Instant meals are great though!" Pearl yelled. "You can make delicious food in like, under ten minutes! Most chefs have to spend loads more time preparing meals! Stuff like pasta, or curry! Even a good stirfry!" OOH! But that would make them great! Why was Three so opposed to them, then? Clearly they were the better choice...  
  
Three nodded understandingly. Not in an agreeing way, but more in the way you might nod that you understand somebody has lost their mind. "It's alright to be wrong, Pearl."  
  
"Yeah, it is! Good thing I ain't!"  
  
"No, you are."  
  
"I ain't!"  
  
"You are." Three smiled like she'd just won the argument.  
  
Marina seemed to suddenly notice something. "Pearlie, don't!"  
  
"I ain't!"  
  
"You are." Three smiled like she'd just discovered the location of a rebel base.  
  
"I ain't!"  
  
"You ain't." Three smiled like she'd just picked the tentacles off an Twintacle Trooper.  
  
"I am!"  
  
"You are." Three smiled like she'd just been told she was allowed to conduct immoral experiments on an unknowing populace.  
  
"Yeah, I am wrong!" Pearl's face went pale as a sheet. Three smiled like she'd just won a really childish argument but was being unnecessarily dramatic about it. "WAIT NO!" Three held up her phone and pressed a button. Pearl's voice rang out, repeatedly saying 'Yeah, I am wrong!' over and over again. It was Super Effective! Pearl literally just melted to the floor!  
  
Marina sounded really tired as she spoke up. "Did you actually plan this, Three." Three was notably silent, but she did smile. Eight's fellow Octarian let out a long and tortured groan as she threw Pearl under her arm and took over steering the Snack Cart. "I hate you so much."  
  
"Mutual. Anyways, instant meals are inherently worse than things like soup or noodles. Most of them need to be actually _cooked_ , so you can't use them as emergency foods like you could other things," Three lectured seriously. The music in the store seemed to get more serious as a response. Was this... Three's power?! "More to the point, they're not as healthy to eat as the actual meals. So they're really just kind of pointless."  
  
Huh? Really? "But they look delicious," Eight murmured.  
  
"Then write down what ones you want, and I'll make it." FOR REAL?! THREE, YOU'RE THE BEST! Eight threw herself at Three and wrapped her arms as tight as she could go! This was great! Though Three was making some weird noises...  
  
Pearl let out a deranged cackle. "REVENGE!"  
  
Marina sighed. "Eight, Inklings aren't as durable as Octarians. You can't just attack them like that." Oh, she couldn't? Inklings did seem to be squishier than Octolings, but it couldn't be that bad... Um. Were necks supposed to bend that way? Was Three alright?  
  
Well, judging from the full-faced blush and the vague trembling, she seemed kind of sick... "Three, are you okay? You're doing that blushing thing again."  
  
Three let out a slightly terrified screech and sprinted away. "PASTA. PASTA GOOD." Huh? Weird... Eight quickly memorized the few instant meals she wanted to try and jogged off after Three. She had no idea why Pearl and Marina were laughing at her though... Jerks. Three eventually stopped next to a row of bags of weird yellow stuff. They were all in loads of different shapes and sizes, though they didn't seem to have any different ingredients... "Fucking. Goddamn it. Hate. Fuck. Shitty. Rrgh." She snatched a bag of something called spaghetti off the shelf and gave a small frown as Eight approached.  
  
Hmm... Ooh, that stuff looked nice! Fettuccine! It was all flat and weird! She _had_ to try that one! And maybe some of those spiral bits! They looked fun! Fusilli? Aaaand a couple of those tubey ones called penne, those looked nice too! Eight threw those into the cart as Pearl and Marina followed after her. "What is all this stuff? When you described it yesterday, you made it sound delicious, but all this stuff is hard..."  
  
"Oh shit, pasta! That stuff is DOPE! Love it!" Pearl laughed.  
  
"Clearly not, you wouldn't be advocating Eight try that instant crap," Three replied severely. "Perfect pasta requires perfect attention. You can't replace that level of care with six minutes in the microwave! Proper food, DECENT food, requires love!"  
  
"Oh, so you've _never_ tasted any good food in your life?" Marina chirped all too happily.  
  
Three chuckled darkly. "Okay, I _did_ walk into that. But my point still stands - you can't replace quality with speed. That's why all the lamest superheroes have superspeed powers as their main superpower." What a weird topic change...  
  
Pearl nodded. "I mean, it's _okay_ to be wrong..." Was Three wrong though? Was she? Without a backup plan, speed was worth nothing! Also, what were those? Farfalle? They looked like weird ribbon thingies. Ooh, and those little dome shaped thingies. Conchiglie? Cool! "But The Blur is the coolest! He can zip around and do anything! Also, Eight? Get like, five packs of those little shell ones, they're great! You can stack them on your tongue, it's rad!" Oooh... Could you? It would be a good exercise of her skill...  
  
Marina nodded. "It's also fun to eat those stacks." What? What was she-- Oh. OH. Pearl flushed a vibrantly bright pink. "Isn't it, Pearlie~"  
  
"REENA! DON'T JUST SAY SHIT LIKE THAT OUT LOUD!"  
  
Three made a noise like she was dying of seventeen stab wounds and a terminal illness. If Eight had to give it an onomotopeia, it'd probably be... Glauauuaghahguhhg. Something like that, at least. Maybe one or two more As or Us, but it was definitely close. "NEXT AISLE."  
  
So far, Three hadn't put much into her cart. Compared to the overflowing cart that Pearl was pushing, it was barely full at all! "Three, are you actually going to buy anything?"  
  
"I am. But most of this stuff I don't need. Once we get to Aisle 6, I'll start filling this cart up with more stuff." Huh... Really now? Hmm.  
  
Aisle Five was apparently a 'Breakfast' aisle. So... Morning Food? It was weird that they had a word for that, but she guessed that was fine. The moment they stepped inside the Aisle, Pearl handed the Snack Cart off to Marina and bolted down the aisle! "Yo, Eight! Check it out!" She pulled a box from a shelf and sprinted back over to Eight. Huh... "Splat-Os! We're so famous, we get asked to sponsor cereal! We're totally the big time!" Oh, she could... _Kind_ of see that? It was kind of hard to tell. There were a bunch of pink and green blobs mixed in with a bunch of orange and blue blobs. She _guessed_ that it kind of resembled them?  
  
Sorta? _Maybe?_ _A little?_ "U-Uh... S-S-Sure?" Pearl still looked ecstatic to hear Eight say it. That said, the blobs still looked nice. She kinda wanted them. "Three, can I get this?"  
  
"Go for it."  
  
YES. Alright, Eight threw that box into Three's cart. Now then... Time to look around! The first one she found was something called Crabbo Flakes. Three mentioned those the other day, that was right. She would want to try this, but... _The Crab_. You could hear the world thundering and going DUN DUN DUUUN as she thought the words. The Crab... Its gaze stared _deep_ and _empty_. There was no soul behind that hideous gaze, that empty stare and mindless gluttony. Only the desire to consume and devour, until _nothing_ was left but the void of the world it had ruined. Imagine it staring at you as you went about your day. Could you do that? COULD YOU? Eight knew, in her hearts... That she could not.  
  
Also, the flakes just looked kind of watery and gross? So that was a big no as well. What else was there in this aisle? There was a box of something called Nutri-Dollar, which had some normal flakey yellowy bits in there, but also some flattened discs of something else. It kind of looked like the same stuff that the Splat-Os were made out of. Hm... Weird. And gross. No. Maybe... These... Whatever they were...? The box just has a plain bowl, not even facing the camera, against a totally empty white background. There was a logo up the top that said Smooth. "Uhhh..." Was it a joke or something? What was this? It was kind of disturbing, honestly. Maybe she should. Maybe she should move on.  
  
Kaluga Puffs were. Odd. There was a ferocious looking fish looming over a bowl of innocent tiny puffs of some brown substance. Looked similar to the flakes, but not the same, somehow. Odd. The box stated, in bold lettering, that it was **FEROCIOUSLY TASTY** , and that **KIDS LOVE IT**. Eight got the impression that kids did not, in fact, love it. She believed that the _opposite_ might be true, and that there was a stockpile of every box of this ever produced locked away in a warehouse so that no living soul may ever touch it and reawaken the nightmare.  
  
She guessed if she was going to try and of this weird cereal stuff, it might be that Splat-Os stuff. That had looked at least mildly interesting. Maybe... Ooh, what about that one? Eight reached out at the same time Three did. "Sorry," Three stuttered.  
  
"No, it's fine!"  
  
"You first."  
  
"Okay!" BLUUH! Why was she getting so worked up recently?! This was so dumb! It didn't help that Pearl and Marina kept snickering every time something like that happened. It super didn't help at all. Bluh. Whatever. Eight was fine. She was. Anyways. Makomart Select Froot Rings. Ooh, they were rainbow coloured! And ring-y! That was nice! She wanted these ones! The moment she threw them in the cart, Three grabbed a second box and threw it in. Did she... Not want to share, or anything? Weird. "So is that it for all the breakfast stuff? What's in those jars over there?"  
  
Three opened her mouth to answer before Pearl interrupted with a slowly building scream. "YooooooooOOOOOOOOO!" There was a neon pink blur, followed by a wave of demented giggling. There was a large jar - about the size of a Chum - cradled in Pearl's arms like a newborn chick swaddled in a blanket. The way she was hugging it was vaguely uncomfortable, though Eight would never truly understand why that was. _"Guess who's got her goddamn MAYO!"_  
  
Eight was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that Marina was a trained soldier who had full memory of her basic training. She was also uncomfortably aware of the dangerous glare Marina was throwing. "Pearl. What did I say about mayo?" The tone was dangerous, yet calm. The sort of tone that, in another life, might have belonged to the empress of the world.  
  
"NO! MY BAN ENDED TODAY! YOU SAID SO YOURSELF!" Ban? What ban?  
  
Marina sighed, in that same way you sigh when you see a child slam their head into a glass door because they're too stupid to understand it's there. "No. I said it ended in twenty one hours. Not that it ended _today._ Put it back."  
  
"NO!"  
  
"What is it?" Eight asked. It was a jar of something called Herring's Real Mayonnaise, with a picture of a fancy bow. The bottom was just a weirdly pale white colour, with nothing else to it. There was an aura of general madness about it, swirling like the mists of the unknown. "It looks... Weird."  
  
"MAYO IS GREAT! It's delicious!"  
  
Three sighed. "Why is it here? Shouldn't it be in the dairy section?"  
  
"No! It's a breakfast spread! You put it on toast and cakes and shit!" Eight noticed that Three pulled her cart a step away from Pearl with a disturbed look on her face. "Not to mention, it's SO delicious! I chug like, five of them a month!" Three pulled her cart five steps away, but this time did so more blatantly and obviously.  
  
"It's disgusting," Marina declared. "And also, you're banned! You broke my laptop!"  
  
"You have like twelve!"  
  
"IT WAS STILL MY LAPTOP!"  
  
Pearl sighed. "Yeah, yeah... Fine. Eight, do you want some mayo? It's delicious~" Was it? Was it really? Judging from the looks on her friends faces, she got the impression that it was not, in fact, delicious. She rather got the impression that nobody had _ever_ found mayonnaise delicious, and would never do until the end of time. "Seriously though, this stuff is great. I love it."  
  
Eight very hesitantly nodded and picked a MUCH smaller jar off the shelf. One that wasn't the size of a freaking Chum. Seriously, how much do you need? "So you put all the jars of this stuff on your Morning Food?"  
  
Three nodded as she swiped a jar of something golden yellow off the shelf. The moment it landed inside the cart, Eight spied the logo as being called Makomart Yellow Honey. She looked at Eight and sighed. "I said I'd cook, so I'm gonna cook. Honey-glazed cinnamon rolls. Might pair well with pancakes too." OOH! That sounded tasty! She wondered what that tasted like... "Ergh. But I'm gonna need to go grab some fucking spices as well... Probably next aisle. Fucking hell..." She snagged another jar of the honey stuff and threw it into the cart.  
  
Hmmm... "What's all this other stuff?" There were two more shelves of jars - one filled with orangey containers, the other filled with dark reds. The red stuff was called... Jam? It looked kind of runny and snotty... Sort of like Salmonid guts? But red. "Ide's Raspberry Jam? What's jam?"  
  
"Not ketchup," Marina replied smoothly.  
  
Pearl sighed Dramatiquely. Don't ask why it's spelled different, it felt right. "It's a bunch of fruit that they crushed up and processed to be all... Weird and soupy." Huh. Really? It didn't really look that way. "It's kinda gross, but people put it on their toast and stuff. I dunno, I don't really super get it."  
  
Huh. There were a lot of flavours here... One called Raspberry, obviously. Some called Strawberry, others called Apricot, Plum, Blackberry... That was about it, but there were a lot of flavours and brands here. Eight decided to try out the strawberry one, just to see what it tasted like. It couldn't be too bad. "... What's toast?"  
  
"Toasted bread. Come to think of it, I'd need a toaster as well," Three mumbled to herself. "Might need to split to go grab that once we're done with the food."  
  
Hmm. The orangey containers on the other hand were weird. "Peanut Butter?" There were two different kinds that repeated over and over - Crunchy and Smooth. It all seemed to have the same picture of a weirdly orangey 8 shaped thing on it. Maybe that was the peanuts? "What's this?"  
  
"It's like jam, but made out of nuts," Marina explained. Huh. Well. Yeah. That was obvious. PeaNUT butter. How did she not figure that out from the name? Who knows! "It's kind of melty when you put it on toast, and it's delicious! ... Assuming you aren't allergic to peanuts. I don't think you are, but maybe we should skip that for now..."  
  
Hmmm... Well, looking over this shelf... She decided to get the smooth peanut butter, one or two jars of that, and a few things of that strawberry jam, but that was it. "YO! SWEE-NUT BUTTER!" On the shelf next to the peanut butter was something called Swee-Nut Butter. Eight could physically feel her beak rotting just looking at it. "Swee-Nut Butter is awesome, and it's delicious!"  
  
"It's 99% sugar, Pearl." What?! That's way too much! Eight didn't know what a _healthy_ amount of anything was, but even she knew that was too high a number! Like maybe 30% too high. Though maybe it was like, multiple things made of sugar? But even then that seemed to be too much. How did Pearl eat that without dying? Like, even _Eight_ knew that you could get sick from nutrition overdose!  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yeah, it is! That's why it's so AWESOME!" She glanced across from the peanut butter. "Ehhh... Too bad they don't got Chocoelacanth here. Chocolate spread is the best." No it wasn't. Eight was only trying chocolate because she wanted to see if it was actually good, but making it anything beyond a candy bar or block was weird.  
  
Three shrugged. "Blame all the parents of the world. Kids go crazy for that shit." She pushed out of the aisle and turned the corner. "Now it's my turn..." Huh? What did that mean?  
  
Pearl informed her that Aisle Six was a 'Baked Goods' aisle, but also held the ingredients you needed to do baking yourself. Which seemed nice and useful. The absolute moment Three stepped foot into the aisle, her face shifted to something resembling... Eight wanted to say fondness? It looked weird on her face. "Baking is weird. You can fuck with it all you want, since the core ingredients are entirely the same in almost every recipe. It's the way you mix all that shit together that makes it different. Once you learn all the tricks to it, baking is... Personal, I guess." She pulled a blue bag labeled as FLOUR off the shelf and stared at it for a moment. "Cooking is simple, too simple. Once you get your shit together, it's easy as pressing a button. But baking is... _Art._ "  
  
"Art?" They hadn't had much of that down in the domes. A few art galleries, some museums that contained old technology prototypes and weapons, even a few schools that focused on cultural skills rather than practical schools. Though _those_ ones were all Noble only, _of course._ Obviously. "You mean like a painting or music?"  
  
Three nodded as she put the bag back on the shelf, picked up another bag labeled as FLOUR, stared for a long moment, and then nodded as she put that into the cart. How they were different, Eight would truly never know or understand. "Yeah. As long as you don't fuck up the mixtures somehow, you can do almost anything with it. It's... Controllable." There was enough meaning in that last word that Eight was surprised there wasn't a thesis paper popping out of thin air just to decode it. "But whatever. I can teach you that shit later. For now... We need to get the ingredients."  
  
Marina grunted as she stared at the shelf. Eight didn't blame her - it was kind of samey. "Why do they need thirty different kinds of flour? It's all the same, isn't it?"  
  
"So what you're saying is that you're no different from Eight, just cause you're both Octolings?" Three growled. "Of course there's a fucking difference. All-purpose flour is a blend of soft and hard wheat, and can be used in just about anything, but manufacturers make it differently to others, so there are some brands that have a higher or lower protein than others, which can be important. Self-rising flour is similar, but it's already been bonded to rising agents so that it's ideal to use for stuff that has to rise like bread or muffins. Then there are specialty flours that contain more or less gluten and protein that produce different textures in food - cake flour ten _ds to make food crumbier because the gluten isn't as elastic as in other flours, for instance. There are also some flours you can use for thickening up gravies and sauces for non-baking purposes but that's a bit weird and honestly I've never really seen a need for it. Whole wheat flour is less processed so it's technically got more nutrients and fiber but it's not as good for baking as other flours. There are also various other kinds of flours like soy or oat, which are used because of various dietary concerns but I don't think there's much of a proper need for those honestly given how healthy you seem, Eight. That said, I probably should figure out if you have any allergies. Anyways, you can technically substitute some kinds of flour for others but why would you even do that? If it's not right, then it won't taste the same. Not even worth making something if you have to substitute it. Also, some people have this whole complex about stuff being organic and there's a whole debate over that, but speaking honestly organic stuff is fucking useless. But anyways, I'm probably getting a few of these if only so I can actually make something worth half a damn. Shouldn't be too hard."_  
  
Silence. Then, after a moment. "What," Pearl said simply. "The fuck was that."  
  
"What was what," Three asked as she piled multiple bags of flour into the cart. Oh yeah, she saw now. Some of these were different... Kind of. She still didn't really get it, but Three seemed passionate about it, so it was clearly something interesting.  
  
"You spoke more in the last twenty seconds than you did in the last two hours," Marina said in a somewhat stunned tone.  
  
Three shook her head. "No, I don't think I did." What. She _can't_ be serious, can she? Three, you. You can't just. _Three!_ She plucked two bags of something called sugar off the shelf, one brown and one white, before moving on. "Anyways. Consider this a lesson. Brown sugar and white sugar are basically the same thing. Same calories and health risks. The only _difference_ is that brown stuff is less processed, so it has more of a flavour, while white sugar is more sweet." Huh... Interesting. Three moved forward, ignoring a shelf of things called sweeteners to move onto a shelf that was a real mishmash of products and pieces.  
  
Eight had no idea what any of this was for. Lots of jars of stuff, like basil and pepper and thyme and other stuff like that. Three paid literally no attention to any of it, snagging a dozen jars of each one off the shelf with little busywork. "I don't think I've ever been down this end of this aisle," Marina noted. "Me and Pearl always just buy the premade stuff."  
  
"Yeah, totally. Loads of cookies and donuts! You can buy them in bulk, it's great!" Pearl laughed loudly. "Like, dude? Cinnamon donuts? They're so good. They're so great. I love 'em."  
  
Three grunted neutrally. "They're not bad. Taste better made fresh, though." Her hands reached out for something called baking soda, but missed by a mile. The orange tinted Inkling stopped and glared with the force of a dying star. She reached up on the tips of her toes and only managed to brush her fingers across the surface of the bag. Eight cautiously grabbed the bag and placed it into Three's cart. Three visibly took a moment to breath in, breath out, and then slammed her head against the nearest shelf. "I _hate_ this fucking building and everyone in it."  
  
"Wear platform shoes like me," Pearl advised sagely. She did a _Dramatique_ _Pose_ , showing off how the shoes she had on her feet added a couple of solid inches to her. "Style and function."  
  
Within the literal second Pearl suggested it, Three shook her head. "I would _rather fucking die_ than be a single inch higher off the ground than I am right now."  
  
"It's great. Plus they make this sweet ass cashmoney sound 'cause I hollowed out the soles and filled 'em with jingly stuff." As emphasis, Pearl shook her foot and let a loud jingly cashmoney sound echo out of her shoes. This, surprisingly, did not sway Three's decision. "Lemme tell ya, it's so cool. Plus, if I ever run out of money? I got emergency cash!"  
  
There was a long moment as Three visibly tried to collect herself. "So anyway," Three said after a moment, audibly trying to drag the topic away from platform shoes filled with cashmoney. "We should keep going. Now. Like RIGHT now."  
  
"Darling, do you think _I_ could have something like that?" Marina asked with a grin bordering on murderous.  
  
"Of course, babe! Maybe set you up with some crazy fucking earrings or bangles or something," Pearl laughed back.  
  
Three groaned in some amount of pain, her every movement a choreographed dance of _pure agony._ "Not to get back on track or anything, but _can we please get back on track?_ Please?"  
  
Eight ignored her, because Pearl's shoes were actually kind of neat. "Do you think I could have shoes like that?" Because that sounded really cool! Shoes that made noise other than the irritating clicks and thunks of boot heels. Maybe like, shoes that had an audio recorder in them? So that every time she took a step, it'd a, like a, um, a big. Noise. Yeah. Eight didn't know what she'd want in those boots, but it'd be a really cool pair of noisy boots. "Because that sounds super cool."  
  
Marina nodded firmly. "You probably want some synthesizers, so that the sound changes depending on how hard you hit the ground." Oooh, that sounded like a good idea! You'd probably need either some big clunky boots or some sturdy synthesizers..." Totally worth it, though.  
  
"Guys? Can we please get back to grocery shopping?" Three asked pathetically.  
  
Ignored. "Yo, what if you had like, a synthesizer and a recorder there so you could record stuff and remix it later," Pearl suggested.  
  
"OH!" Marina gasped.  
  
"YO!" Pearl grinned.  
  
It did sound pretty cool. They managed to continue this line of thought for the next... She wanted to say five minutes? Right up until Three distracted her with something rainbowy and shiny. According to the label it was something called Teeterfin's Sprinklebits. "What are sprinkles?" Eight asked as she stared at the jar. It had lots of little flaky bits in it of every colour. "Is it a snack?"  
  
"Sprinkles are things you put onto certain foods to add extra flavour and flair," Three explained as she reached elbow deep into the shelf and pulled out a bottle of something called 100s and 1000s. Compared to the ones Eight was holding, they were a lot smaller and more... Dotty than the line ones she had in her hands. "That said, some are better than others."  
  
Marina nodded. "You mean like Bedazzles, right?" Marina proceeded to retrieve what was possibly the greatest invention of all time from the shelf - a pack of sprinkles, but glittery and orby and shiny. It was so COOL! It was a bag labeled as _BEDAZZLES_ in hot pink text, with a picture of an excitable Inkling on the front and some kind of. Ribbon, Eight wanted to say? Made of the sprinkles in question. "They're so much fun! I put them on basically everything I eat."  
  
Three stared at the package with some amount of disturbed horror. "Holy shit, it's like Callie as a bag of sprinkles."  
  
Silence. Marina looked at the bag again. _"Oh my god,"_ she said in an equally disturbed tone. "I can't believe it."  
  
"The new horror film coming to Sci-Fy," Pearl announced dramatically. "THE BEDAZZLE PLAGUE. It can happen to anyone..."  
  
Eight felt incredibly left out and confused right now. How was Callie like a bag of sprinkles? Maybe this was just one of those weird Surface jokes that would only make sense after a few years or something, because it _definitely_ wasn't making sense. She decided to take a look further ahead while her friends were hung up on whether a bag of sprinkles accurately represented Callie's physical or mental aesthetic. Whatever that happened to actually mean.  
  
Hmm. This shelf was weird. It had loads of bottles and boxes labeled as being something called frosting, which was weird, since none of it looked even remotely like ice. It all had the same general flavours as all the chocolate from the snack aisle, but it was more... _Spiral-y-y._ "What's this stuff?"  
  
"Icing! You put it on top of food to add flavour!" Marina explained. "It's really good on fish!" Ooh... More flavour?  
  
Three made a sound like she was dying of disease. "Ida, how are you alive right now?"  
  
Pearl sighed. "I actually don't know."  
  
"I wasn't asking _you_ either!" Three yelled. "Don't you fucking buy gallons of mayo or some shit?! You both have _zero_ taste!"  
  
There was a moment where both Pearl and Marina looked at each other in confusion. "... No, our tastebuds are fine," Marina said after a moment. "Anyway, are you going to give some pithy remark about how the storebrought brand isn't good enough?"  
  
"Actually, no. I don't know how to make frosting that well," Three noted as she grabbed a few other miscellaneous jars and boxes. Lots of words she didn't quite get there. But wait, Three didn't know? That was definitely new. "That said, most of this packaged stuff is crap. Might need to figure out how to make the shit anyway..." She grabbed a large box marked as Betty Candiru Strawberry Frosting and threw it into the cart. It was starting to look a little full now... Huh.  
  
Pearl laughed. "And now the best part of the store!" She grabbed Eight by the hand and dragged her forwards to see-- Oh. Oh goodness. This... This was _beautiful_. The second half of the aisle was filled with clear plastic boxes and bags filled with baked goods. Flat little discs called cookies filled with some kind of chips in them, squares of something goopy with a slab of something brown on it called caramel slices, weird fluffy things that were in little paper cups called muffins, curly foodstuffs called croissants, and big blocky thingies called bread! "BEHOLD! THE LAND OF DONUTS AND BAKERY!"  
  
Round things called donuts with holes that were empty! Beautiful cakes covered in icing aplenty! Delicious small tarts that were good smelling... These were a few of her favourite things! "Oh my goodness! This all looks so DELICIOUS!" It super did! They were all doing this... Thing. Was it possible for food like this to glisten? Because it was. Maybe it was one of the ingredients making it shiny or something, but it was glistening! Just so _goshdarn_ _sparkly_.  
  
The next few minutes were kind of a blur, but she did remember hurling a good amount of the baked goods into Three's cart. See, Eight didn't intellectually know this. However, she _did_ happen to hear the vaguely disappointed yet not surprised sigh that Three made, so Eight _assumed_ she'd done something along those lines to elicit said sigh. "Is that everything you want here?" Three asked. "Cause I can make all this shit but better."  
  
"You could, but it's not instant," Marina replied. It was kind of true - Eight guessed that you couldn't just whip up a bunch of nice food out of the blue. "With these, you can just reach in and grab food! It's amazing how technology progresses, isn't it?"  
  
The level of fury Three threw at Marina could have killed a small child. "Technology fucking peaked ten years ago, and it's been downhill ever goddamn since." She left the aisle and turned the corner so that her arm brushed up against the walls of the store. "But fine. Eight, get whatever you fucking please. I'll let you gorge on it, and then I'll blow that shit out of the fucking water." Did that mean that Eight got DOUBLE FOOD? Double Food was more than Single Food. That was good. So yes, Eight would definitely take Three up on that offer!  
  
Aisle Seven was technically two aisles, but nobody seemed to think that was the case? Like, how weird was that, right? The back wall of the store and the far right wall were covered in shelving and display units for cold goods. "Everything cold is amazing, and you have to try it all," Marina said firmly. Her tone implied that there would be dire consequences. "Lobster with kelp? _Amazing_. Inky Pudding? _Delightful_. Jellycones? _Fabulous_. Pizza? _Outrageously_ _delicious_. It's all good. There's literally nothing bad here."  
  
Nothing bad...? It was ALL good?! How could that be?! So far, even the beautiful Surface had shown her heresy in the form of chocolate! Sure she was giving it a chance to redeem itself, but that was still a heretical thing! There was no way that all of this could possibly be delicious! There was No Way! "Eh. Some of it is alright. As long as Eight isn't allergic to any of it, she'll enjoy it."  
  
"You mentioned that earlier," Eight asked suddenly. "What are allergies?"  
  
"Stuff your body doesn't like," Pearl explained. "You can puff up like a balloon, or get really sick and throw up a lot. It's super weird, I don't really get it." Sounded weird. Why would your body get a say in what you like or not? Eight _refused_ to let her body take control of her like that. It was her body, not an inanimate slab of genetics! Dumb body. Eight would ruin it any way she pleased.  
  
Three proceeded to glare venomously at a small carton with a picture of a lady on it for a full minute before dunking a different brand into the cart. It was... "Butter? Ew! Why would you want to eat butts?!" For whatever reason, this set off a fit of hysterical laughter. Three did not laugh, as she was a good friend, but did let her shoulders shake a little. "What? What's so funny about butts?"  
  
A barely audible snort escaped Three's throat as she reached for a large carton of little round thingamagjiggies. "It's not made of butts. It's made of milk." Oh. So... It wasn't made out of butts? Then why call it butter? "Yeah, they take milk or cream? And ferment it to seperate the butterfat from the buttermilk. Don't ask why it's called butter, cause I have no fucking clue."  
  
"Old languages," Marina explained quickly. "It's a mutation of words from about seven seperate languages because Inklish is an actual _nightmare_ nobody can wake up from."  
  
Pearl nodded as she looked over the carton Three had grabbed. "Wait, pigeon eggs? You use pigeon eggs. That's fucked up, dude."  
  
"Pigeons are just as much of a valid source of eggs as sparrows," Three replied tiredly. Huh... Looking at the shelf, there were a lot of eggs. They came in a lot of different kinds, with most being marked as free range, others as caged, and a few as 'Farm Fresh', whatever that meant. There were also differences in what kind of eggs they were, Sparrow, Pigeon and Gull. Weird... "Just because they aren't fucking sparrow eggs doesn't mean they're shitty."  
  
Marina tapped Eight on the shoulder and directed her attention to a cold storage unit just up ahead. "Come on! Let's go check out the Inky Puddings!" Ooh? What was a pudding? The storage unit was filled with tiny little cups. Most of the ones in the unit were labeled as Heliotrope, a few more as Amaranth, and two as Chartreuse. "They're great. They have like, a thousand flavours."  
  
Oooh... A thousand flavours? "What is it? Inky Pudding sounds delicious, but it also sounds..." She paused and fumbled for a word. There was a word for it, right? "Inky. Like... Is it actual ink? I don't want to be an ink eater, Marina." Nobody wanted to be an ink eater. Not only was it childish, it was very stupid. She didn't want to get sick.  
  
"No, it's not ink. It's just called that since there's a different flavour for every possible colour hex code!" Oh. Phew! Thank goodness that it wasn't ink wait for _every possible colour hex code was Marina KIDDING?!_ Weren't there like a BILLION OF THOSE?! "Now, the front is usually these _lame_ flavours. Less people buy them so they have more product to sell, so they're always at the front. But if you push them aside... Give me a boost real quick."  
  
Um. Okay??? Eight boosted Marina up so the older Octarian could shove half her body into the cold unit. She kind of felt like she was committing a _crime_ or something. "Uh. Marina? What is a pudding?" She should've asked like. A _dozen_ other questions. Why did you need the boost. Why are you torso-deep into this cold unit. Can they really be this good to justify what you're doing. "I mean, for you to just. Hop into the cold unit like that."  
  
"Inky Puddings are dessert puddings, typically made from sweet milk with a somewhat thick consistency," Three said without even looking at them. Eight noted the large container of something labeled as milk being placed into the cart. "Normal pudding typically has mundane flavours, but Inky Pudding is a unique mixture of flavours per colour. Only problem is they need to be refrigerated, or they go gross." Ah. Thank you for the synopsis, Three.  
  
Marina's voice echoed out from the freezer. "Ooh! Pearlie, they have Indigo! And Citron! Bring the cart over, I need to dump some stuff into it!" Pearl did a sweet drifting move and stopped just next to them in a single movement. Marina's hands kept squeezing out of the cold unit to dump tiny cups into the cart just below her wiggling legs. "Eight, what's your hexcode?"  
  
Her base colour? Um. It was... "DE3163. I think it's called Cerise? Why?"  
  
Marina crawled out of the cold unit with a bundle of Inky Puddings, handing one to Eight. "Because I got you one that's the same colour!" Oh! It was a little brown cup, with a stripe around it the same colour as she'd specified. Cerise, huh? Neato! It was nice having red!  
  
"Hey, what are the rest of these cold units for?" There were like, ten in a row, cutting the last aisle in half between simple cold shelves and actual storage units. Most of them had boxes in them. Lots of little things. One of them had... Were those _tentacles_ on a stick?! It looked morbidly delicious. Tentapops... "Are those actual tentacles?"   
  
Hmmm. Hmmm. HMMMM. Bluh. The ice on the door was blocking most of the text on the box! She'd have to open the cold unit to get a closer look. Her hand gripped around the handle, pulled it open and _AAAAAAAAAAAH COLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLD!_ It hadn't been that cold with the Inky Pudding cold unit why was this one so _cold RRRRGH COOOLLLDDD._ Okay! Okay, she could deal with this! Uhh, it was a Blueberry Tentapop okay close the door close the door! "... Cold, huh?" Three said snarkily. Eight snatched a random Inky Pudding from Pearl and Marina's cart and threw it.  
  
The jerk didn't even look as she caught it in her off hand.  
  
"They're called iceblocks. Different from ice cream," Marina told her. Why make them sound so _similar_ then! It was confusing! They were both blocks of food, and they were icy! Where was the difference there! Unless it was like. The difference between a Blaster and a Shooter? Meaning that one was good and the other was worthless trash? That would make a lot of sense. There seemed to be an even split between ice blocks and ice cream.  
  
For the iceblocks side, there were weird little towers of rings called Lifesavers, thin tubes called Froyo Strands, a box filled with little shapes like Squids, Urchins and Jellyfish called Fruity Forms, and several boxes of normal iceblocks called Ice Poles. As if it wasn't confusing enough... And then on the ice cream side, which she had heard was delicious, were weird little cones with big blue blobs on top called Jellycones, weird stick thingies called Chocobuoys, something called Gallon Double Coated Chocolate, and lots and lots and lots of tubs of something called neapolitan. "Neapolitan," Pearl corrected her as she did that annoying knowing all the answers thing again.  
  
Hm. Eight _guessed_ she'd... Try a few of the Jellycones? Maybe some Ice Poles too... It was all a bit too cold for her liking. She was definitely getting one of the tubs to try the ice cream out. She wanted to compare it to cake and come up with a proper answer. "It's all so cold... How do you deal with it?" Also, the chocolate stuff seemed. Not awful. But she already had chocolate in the cart to see if it could redeem itself, she wasn't going to dedicate her LIFE to it!  
  
"You don't," Pearl admitted with a worrying smile. "It's always cold. Forever."  
  
Bluh. Always cold? Hmm. There had to be a work around for that... (There was. In a few days, Eight would divine the answer to this problem: Wear a warm winter jacket as an apron! That way the cold couldn't hurt you as badly!) But whatever it was, Eight would find it later. She threw a few of the iceblocks and ice creams into Three's cart. The Inkling paused, shot a dirty look, and then went about rearranging her cart for the better part of two minutes.  
  
Ooh! And right after that, there were frozen meals! Lots of things labeled as fries and wedges... They seemed pretty similar though. "Oh, grab some fries! You throw them into the oven and they get crispy and super crunchy!" Pearl enthusiastically told her. "It's so cool! Not to mention they're warm and delicious all the time!"  
  
"The only problem is that they're really small! You want to get the wedges!" Marina told her sternly. "They're way better! They've got more potato on them, so you get more food!" Oohhhhh. Yeah, looking at the packages, it did look like wedges had the market cornered... But wait! They looked less crunchy! So was that the trade-off?! What did she want more of... She knew from eating the Seanwiches earlier that day that crunch was good. But more food was also good.  
  
Decisions... This was truly a battle for the ages. She would never be able to-- Wait. Hold on.  
  
She could just. Get _both_ , couldn't she.  
  
Into the cart they go!  
  
Next there was... Ooh. A thing called Pizza! Pizz-ah? Pitza? Pie-za? She had no idea how to pronounce this thing. It was like a big round disc, kind of like an Ink Mine, stored in a box. The box claimed it was a McKoi Tofu & Cheese pizza. It had a bunch of lightish pink bits on it and lots of yellow stuff. It looked pretty good! "What's this?"  
  
Marina glanced over. "Oh, that's pizza! It's super delicious! It's a flat base of dough, coated with tomato sauce and loads of toppings! It's awesome!" Ooh, was it? She'd definitely have to try it then. But there were a load of flavours here... Did she want that one? "Hmm. Not Tofu & Cheese though, it's pretty bland. Try... Ah. That one!"  
  
Following Marina's guidance, Eight looked at a box labeled as Vegorama. It had all sorts of bits and pieces on top of it. It looked kind of crowded, actually, like stuff would start falling off if she happened to nudge it. "Really? It looks kind of... Unbalanced." It did have vegetables on it, which made it healthy. Maybe it was an Inkling thing? "Wouldn't it topple over the first time you moved it?"  
  
"No, it's all cooked on! The only reason it'd fall off is if you made it!" Ohhhhhh. That was interesting! Definitely had to get that then! But these other flavours were super interesting. Something called Spicy Tofu & Camembert, another one called Mega Meatlovers, one that seemed really bland called Cheesy Garlic, and one called the New Clam City Big Three Meats that was triple the size of every other pizza in the cold unit. "I like the Spicy Tofu & Camembert, since it has that nice cheese onit? It's really delicious!" Ooh!  
  
"Dude, Mega Meatlovers? The shit!" Pearl cheered. "It's amazing! It's got like, every kind of major fishmeat on it!" Fishmeat? Oooh! It was really delicious! Hmm... Still, the boxes were big enough that, compared to the big boxy thing in Three's apartment, she could probably only get one or two of them... Well, she definitely wanted to get the super big one... Maybe the Cheesy Garlic? It seemed bland and inoffensive, so... Hm. Actually nevermind. She'd grab the Vegorama and the big Three Meats one. Into the cart they both go!  
  
And maybe... Oh. Uh oh. "Um. You, uh. That's. Um." There was a box of Calamari Rings on the shelf. It was marked with the phrase 'Morbidly Delicious'. She forgot that Squids were _weird_ like that. They'd had those around the Domes, as energy boosting snacks for soldiers. They were only fakes though, nutrition cubes warped and crumbed to appear like they were actual food. They were still infinitely more delicious - the crumbs gave it a texture besides smooth cube - but it was still bad. "You guys... Eat yourselves?"  
  
"They're delicious! Plus, they're super good on cold days," Pearl told her seriously. "Calamari Calamari, Calamari Riiiings! They're morbidly delicious!"  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Marina making a grossed out face. "Pearl, why? Squid meat is super gross!" Yeah, that was true. That said, she'd still try it. It'd be delicious. Eight pulled a box of Sealord Blue Lemon Zest Calamari Rings out of the cold unit and looked around. Oh, were they at the end of the cold unit section? Where to now?  
  
"It's delicious, and it's amazing. Morbidly DELICIOUS, that's their tagline!" Pearl argued.  
  
Marina sighed dramatically. "Well, now that we're done with the freezer section, we get to look at the fresh foods... After that, we just need to look at the fresh food aisle, and I think that's about it?" Oh, really? They were almost done? Cool!  
  
They turned a corner and walked over to the far right wall, which had a recessed area inside it for a small kitchen and a dozen cold display units. A big sign above it said _FRESH_ in big white letters, with a number of product prices for odd creatures. What was Fresh meant to mean anyway? Did it mean cool? She had to figure that out eventually... Food for thought.  
  
The products there were very odd! Rather than being cooped up in boxes or in see-through plastic wrap, it was all untouched and on display. Some of it, what she judged as being more crumbly and goopy, was kept in silver... She wanted to call them bowls? Maybe dishes. Others were carefully arranged as tightly together as possible, with small signs attached to steel spikes pinned near the product it was advertising. Across from that, there was what she assumed to be fish and other sealife lying on cold ice, a dozen odd creatures she'd never seen before. It was quite odd!  
  
Three walked over to the fish section first, tapping her fingers on the handlethingamajiggerdeluxo as she thought to herself. "Hey, can I get two lobsters and three tuna?" The person behind the counter nodded and used a pair of tongs to lift out the requested creatures. They were placed into bits of paper and then packaged up quickly, secured by bits of tape. "Thanks."  
  
Marina looked vaguely interested. "Lobster and tuna? Planning some gourmet style food?"  
  
"Something like that. Gonna use the tuna in sushi, and the lobster are going to be a proper dinner." Three hummed as she looked over the fish for a moment. "Hmm. Eight, anything you want to try? This is a shopping trip for you, after all." Hmmm... No, not right now. There was some squid (Gross) and octopus (Even more gross, possibly cannibalism), some various fish that looked smaller and less filling than what Three had grabbed, and salmon. Eight refused to eat salmon, so she shook her head.  
  
Even if it was salmon that wasn't based on Salmonids, it was still gross. "No, I'm good. Is there anything else here we need?" The group moved across to the first section, that had all close together and looked at the various bits and pieces there. "What's this green stuff? It looks pretty good!" It was some kind of stringy green and red stuff laid out. Some of it looked dried, some of it looked wet and limp, and other bits of it looked really odd and crunchy...  
  
An excited gasp rose out of Marina's throat. "Oooh! Seaweed! Eight, it's the best! It's a seaplant that's grown by the truckload here in Inkopolis! There's some dulse, carola, some ogonori, gutweed, kelp, loads of stuff!" Ooohh... "Some of it is crunchy, some of it's smooth and slippery, but it's all got that delicious seafoody taste!" That sounded delicious! There were a bunch of different kinds of it, and she wanted to try it all!  
  
Except for the gutweed. That sounded gross.  
  
"Which one is best?" Eight asked quickly.  
  
"Dulse! It's slippery and sweet!"  
  
Right! "Three! Can we get dulse?" Please please please please!  
  
A dramatic sigh, followed by a dramatic eye roll, followed by a barely perceptible nod. Wow, she was getting really good at figuring out all of Three's little subtle tics, wasn't she? "Yeah yeah, we'll grab you whatever you want." She lifted her hands and started tapping her fingers, silently mouthing numbers as she counted. "Hmm. Oi, one Small dulse, one Large nori, and one Extra Large kombu." Ooh! That all sounded great! Eight watched intently as the clerk behind the counter started lifting bits of seaweed out from the display case and moving it into small transparent tubs. They were using those tong thingies again...  
  
The strips of seaweed were carefully folded and placed into each container, sealed with the most devastating weapon known to squids or octarians... Sticky tape. Truly, this was a _professional_ operation. "That all?" the clerk asked simply.  
  
Three moved across slightly as she placed the tubs into her basket and frowned at a large off-white block of... Something, covered in straight lines. It looked kind of jelly-ish. The little sign behind it said 'Tofu'. "Can I get 1.5 kilograms of tofu?" The clerk nodded and moved a knife along the lines, cutting out a smaller rectangle of the substance. "Production scale tofu comes in big blocks with those lines. If you cut along the lines, one cube is worth 500 grams. So we get three, and that's enough for almost three nights worth of dinner."  
  
A noise emerged from Pearl's throat. Eight wasn't quite sure of what onomotopeia you could ascribe to it, other than the faint nose you make when you're judging somebody but aren't entirely sure of what to judge them as. "What are you going to make out of tofu, anyway? Don't you just make it on its own?" The look Pearl recieved was as scalding hot as an underwater volcano. Eight strongly suspected that had Three owned superpowers, it would've been enough to kill Pearl on the spot. "Okay, don't. Don't stare at me like that, dude."  
  
Three gripped at her head for a moment, visibly trying to extract whatever nonsense Pearl had just said out of her brain. "You. I don't. That's not how. No. NO. Making it on its own _ruins_ any flavour you can get out of it! You _need_ the contrast! Otherwise the texture overpowers the flavour!" Another tired sigh left Three. Two hundred and sixty five. Eight was counting at this point. "Gonna put it into a stirfry, cook some more up with some roasted vegetables, and the last of it I'll turn into some decent burgers. Even a halfway decent chef can make multiple meals out of this."  
  
Oooh! Multiple meals?! YES! That meant Eight would get to eat delicious food every day! She did wonder what a stirfry or burgers were, but whatever! She was suepr into it! "Really?! YES! Thank you Three! Thank you thank you thank you!" Eight hugged Three again as tightly as possible. The babbled noises that flowed out of Three's mouth were adorable, but she had to ignore that right now! Food was on the line! The moment that the tofu was wrapped into the plain paper and sealed up, Eight threw it into the cart and kept looking at everything left in the display unit!  
  
Hm. Not much left, honestly. There was some yellowy stuff labeled as 'Cheese', but it all looked kinda... Um. Gross. It had this blue veiny stuff in it, and honestly, Eight was kind of not interested in that stuff. Bleurgh. Anything else... "Hey, wait a sec. Three, you said you were going to make sushi for Eight, right?" Marina asked. "You need rice."  
  
Three took a second to pull herself out of her babbling fit. "Fuck off, I know. Oi, mate? Two kilos of white rice." The clerk nodded and wandered towards the back of the kitchen area, opening a large wooden barrel filled with some kind of white stuff. A moment after, they plucked a large bag from the benches behind them and dunked the entire thing into the barrel, carefully shimmying it until the bag was almost completely full. Tape was attached to the edge, sealing the bag shut. "Thanks," Three said as she placed the large bag into her cart.  
  
"No problem."  
  
"We're almost done," Marina cheered tiredly. "Just fruits and vegetables left, right?"  
  
Pearl nodded. "Yup. And then we get to watch movies and pig out on food."  
  
That sounded super awesome! Eight was all for it! They were almost homefree!  
  
As they passed through the alleyway between the walls of the store and the current Splat Battle, a weird smell wafted into her nose. It wasn't an unpleasant smell. And it wasn't a particularly fascinating one either. It was similar to the scent of the fresh air, and the waves of the ocean that she'd seen that morning... It was... It was right on the tip of her tongue, really. Was it... Was it the smell of something Fresh? "Aisle 1, Fruits & Vegetables," Eight read out loud. She wasn't particularly sure of what either of those things were. Fruits sounded nice, but she could tell by the way its foul syllables rested on her tongue that she wanted nothing to do with Vegetables. "All of this looks weird and... Gross."  
  
It was all... _Nature-y_ and not processed. _Whruegherugh_. That was the onomatopoeia for Eight having a fullbody fit of confusion. Don't get it mixed up with other similar sounds. "Bluergh..." Pearl groaned loudly as they walked into the fruit section. "Vegetables. They're so _gross_ , man." Yeah. Unlike every other item in the store so far, these... Fruits and Vegetables... Their colouring was weird. Where most things in the store had been flat plain colours, these were odd gradients. Not to mention, they all had that odd Fresh scent on it.  
  
"All of this food," Marina stated with a wide smile. "Is good for you." Oh! Healthy food? Okay then... They smelled weird and had weird colouring, but if they were healthy... She should probably eat one or two every now and again. Yeah, that'd be nice! Eating healthy food that didn't taste like the worst thing in her life! She refused to ever eat nutrition cubes ever again, she would gladly replace them with all of this stuff.  
  
All of the food was stacked similarly to how the seafood counter had been, unboxed and unwrapped, carefully placed onto a shelf and organized in those. Um. What was the word... Oh, right. Tessellating patterns. Yeah. Signs hung over each portion of the shelves, saying SALE and SPECIAL OFFER and PERCENT OFF in big red letters. "Sale means they've got too much stock," Three tells her quietly. There was something suddenly uncomfortable in her posture, a rapid tap-tap-tap of the tip of her boots against the floor. "Special offer means that it's conditional. Buy one, get one free, buy it in bulk, shit like that. And the percent one is just a shittier sale."  
  
Oh. Food for thought! "So we want the ones that say sale? Since they're cheaper?" Three nodded. Good... It was good to know that Eight could figure that stuff out. Alright then... First off: She was going to check out those round red things. The sign called them 'Apples'. There were little red ones, ones that were deeper red - her red - and some... Green ones? Why would they be green? They were obviously meant to be red, so why green? That was dumb. "Why would these be green?" she whispered, more to herself, since she could tell it was an abberation of nature?  
  
Seriously. Good things were red. She was red, and better at shooting things than most people were at generally existing, which meant that she was the Best Red Thing. "It's a genetic split," Marina explained simply. "The green ones have something to do with how they didn't get enough sunlight, I think. I don't know, I'm not a geneologist."  
  
"Green apples have more fibre and less carbs and sugar," Three said told her. Tap-tap-tap. "Red ones have anthocyanins which have antioxidants and anti-inflammatory benefits. Other than that though, there's no real reason to choose between them other than taste." ... Huh. So they were... Better for you medically or something? That was weird.  
  
"How do you know so much about _food_ , man? I thought you were some kind of hyper soldier," Pearl asked.  
  
For a split second, the tap-tap-tap paused, and then resumed. "... None of your business," she replied quietly. "Eight. Check over here. These red ones are pink ladies, and the deeper red ones are royal galas. The green ones are granny smiths. Green apples are nicer to snack on, and red ones are more useful for baking into food. What ones do you want?" Oooh... Well, the pink ladies looked nice... But she definitely wanted the royal galas. They were more red than the other ones.  
  
"These ones!" Three nodded and went to the end of the aisle, pulled several bits of plastic off of a spool of it, and came back. She flicked one of the bits out, and it opened up! Oh, it was like a bag, huh? Interesting! "So they're tasty?"  
  
"Oh yeah, totally. Apples are delicious!" Pearl laughed.  
  
"Not as delicious as pears," Marina replied.  
  
"Oh, do not _start_ this shit with me, babe. We already had that Splatfest, I won."  
  
"Through _cheating._ "  
  
"I didn't cheat!"  
  
"You stole half my team!"  
  
"It isn't stealing if they come willingly!"  
  
Three silently placed the bag of apples - it looked like there were ten of them or so? - into a large bowl hanging from some kind of weird clock looking thing. The moment the bowl was weighed, the hands of the clock-thing spun. Three hummed for a moment and pulled one of the apples out. The clock-thing went down slightly. "Good price. If you buy fruits or vegetables in bulk, make sure that you don't buy more than ten. Otherwise, it's cheaper to just buy a bulk pack of it from a dedicated fruits store." Oh! That made sense!  
  
"There are dedicated fruit stores?" That sounded weird. Why do that? If you could just visit a place like this and get all kinds of foods at once... "That sounds counterproductive. Wouldn't people not go there?"  
  
"There are people who enjoy it. Apparently food from places like that is 'Fresher' or something. Personally, _I've_ never found that, but they survive on the pity of vegans and health nuts." She moved on to a display of large orange thingies. They were... Round and orange, and that was about it. "Tadah. Oranges."  
  
"... What are they called?" Why hadn't Three told her that?  
  
"Oranges."  
  
"I know that's their _colour_ , but what are they called?" Come on, don't be weird.  
  
"They're called _oranges_."  
  
"Yes, I _know_ that these are orange. But what are they _called?"_ Come on...   
  
"THE FRUIT IN FRONT OF YOU, THE FUCKING ORANGE ORBS RIGHT HERE, THEY ARE CALLED ORANGES!"  
  
"STOP LYING! THAT'S STUPID! WHAT ARE THEY CALLED!" Stop messing around!  
  
"ORANGES!"  
  
"RRRRRRGH!" Fine. If Three wasn't going to tell her what they were, she would ask Marina! "Marina, what are these things?"  
  
"Oranges."  
  
... "You're all _liars_ , and I don't trust _any_ of you, and I'm going to figure out what they're called one day, and you're all going to look like _fools_." Stupid lying jerks who don't tell her things. Eight huffed and stormed past as Three threw a bunch of the orange-coloured fruits into one of the plastic bags she was holding. Right, what were those? There were a bunch of weirdly off-white off-yellow lumps of varying sizes and shapes. The sign called them Potatoes. Po-tah-toes? Yeah, that sounded right. "What are these things? They look weird."  
  
Pearl laughed. "Oh, fuck yeah! Potatoes! Lemme tell you, Eight. All the best foods are made with potato, and that's no lie!" Ooh, were they? That was neato! "Chips, potato salad, potato balls, Au gratin, all that stuff is great! Potatoes are like a universal taste applier!" Ooooh! That all sounded super delicious!  
  
"Three, can we get those too?" Please say yes! It'd be amazing to taste all of those delicious foods! "Pretty please?"  
  
"Yeah. Was planning on making some chips anyway." YES! VICTORY! She was gonna get to taste so many great foods! Heck yeah! "Maybe make some baked potatoes too... Yeah. I can make that work." Tap-tap-tap. What next, what next... Bluh? BLUH! Ugh, what was that SMELL?! It was practically an assault on her nose! What the heck was that?! Just _smelling_ it made her entire face want to die and vanish forever! Bluh! After a minute of searching, she found the answer. An entire shelf of something called Squidfin Lemons. It was super smelly! Blergh!  
  
She noticed both Marina and Three screw their faces up as they approached. Blergh, the smell was really super bad! But Pearl didn't seem to mind the smell at all? What the heck? "Yo! Squidfin, where the heck you been? That wonderful single sour scent, gonna buy a billion not a single Shell unspent! That heavenly smell of sour and love, most people don't like you 'cause they're dour and dumb! I'm gonna eat every last one-a them, those real gems causin' mayhem always welcome, those chums from the plum good farms up west who got those green thumbs, and on my tongue Squidfin Lemons are always welcome." She then mimed dropping the mic and posed. Marina pulled out her phone and took a hundred pictures.  
  
Squidfin Lemons were... Weird. Ignoring the smell, they looked kind of like the head of a squid. They were rounded and sort of squishy, with large pointed fins on either side. "What's the deal with these things anyway? They're weird as heck!" They didn't look very symmetrical, either... Most of them had unequal 'Slopes' on their fins - one side being higher or lower than the other. "They all look kind of misshapen..."  
  
Marina frowned as she looked them over. "No, they're meant to be. Only the best Squidfin Lemons are completely symmetrical. These ones are fine." Oh. Okay, so... They were meant to be that weird and misshapen? "Pearl likes eating these. So much. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and she's eating them underneath the kitchen sink. Sometimes I find her curled up in a closet eating them in the dark."  
  
"I eat the peels! I don't leave any evidence! You don't like the smell, so I don't eat them anywhere you would find them, and where you wouldn't mind the smell!"  
  
"Your _BREATH_ smells, Pearl."  
  
 _"You eat the peels?"_ Three asked, in that same dead faux-friendly tone of voice you might use if you were dragged to an intervention for a friend of a friend that you didn't care for much. "You eat the peels. _Why._ "  
  
Pearl gave a disturbed look. "Uh, they're hella good? They're delicious? Sour and shit. I love 'em. Also, it's wasteful to not eat the peels? Do you..." Her voice went quiet and unnerved. Like it was a great and terrible sin being displayed before her eyes. "Do you _not_ eat the peels?"  
  
"No. That's gross." Three's voice was flat and unarguable.  
  
"What's gross is _wasting food_ , Three."  
  
"You continue to surprise and disappoint me, Pearl." Three threw six of them into a bag and moved on. Pearl ran, grabbed a bag, and then filled it to the brim with Squidfin Lemons. A heavy sigh, reminiscent of a ruler knowing their final day had come left Marina's throat. "You shouldn't eat them anyway. They're sour. Better to squeeze them for the juice and use that in cooking."  
  
"Wait, you don't even EAT THEM?!"  
  
"No. It's cheaper than buying the bottles of lemon juice, by like. A lot. Plus, it's more pure. The bottles water that stuff down, you know." The look on Pearl's face could have erased Three from the face of this earth through sheer hatred. "Anyways... I just need... I just..." Tap-tap-tap. Okay, this was getting unsettling now. Three had been tap-tap-tapping for roughly twenty minutes now. She was... Uneasy? Upset? Hm. Maybe see if she could help somehow?  
  
Alright. If Eight had to do it, she would. "Why don't we split up? Pearl and Marina can get half of what we need, and the two of us go get the rest?" Yes! Thank you, smart brain! You are a brain that works! Which was more than she could say for like. Most of the people she'd known in basic training. "That way we can get out of here faster and get to watching those sweet movies!" Eight would abuse the heck out of her being a Sweet Naive Young Girl if it meant she could destroy any negative energy.  
  
Everybody thought for a moment. Well, _Marina_ thought. Three leaned up against a shelf, crossed her arms, and began Pondering. If you're wondering the difference, Pondering is a much grumpier form of thought. Meanwhile, Pearl started Wondering. Wondering is similar to Pondering, but you make sounds like 'Oh', 'Ah', 'Hmm' and 'I See' a lot until somebody asks you what you've thought of. Come on, nobody veto the plan! Nobody veto the plan! "Well... I suppose we can do that," Three said after a moment. "Two heads of lettuce, three onions, five tomatoes and four garlics." **VEEMO**.  
  
"And what will you be doing?" Marina asked.  
  
"Letting Eight go wild over what colour Squiddymelon she wants." Wait. Colour? Why would she be going wild then? Like she would want any colour other than red! But fine. Eight would play along with that blatant mistruth. She would make a great sacrifice and pretend to go wild over colours. Okay, that was a big lie. She would go wild no matter what. Surface food was all really cool and tasty. Still! She would at least keep her TRUE goal in mind... Yessss... Wait. No. Bad Eight. Don't be an evil mastermind. Okay. She would DO this!  
  
Pearl nodded with a dangerous smile. "Alright then. We'll go grab some vegetables and leave you two lovebirds alone." WHAT. Thaaaaat didn't mean anything Eight wasn't doing this because she liked Three or anything well she did like Three but not like that because that'd be unprofessional and Eight was never anything but professional that was what she'd learned from basic Pearl was an awful person just the worst really she was Eight didn't even know why they were friends they weren't loveb _irds that was silly and Eight was a solid PROFESSIONAL which meant she wasn't silly and wasn't a fool and wasn't a lovebird okay not that being a lovebird with Three was awful NOT THAT SHE WANTED TO but it wasn't the worst option in the world and she didn't really mind but Pearl was still a jerk because Eight was a professional OKAY?_  
  
Bluh.  
  
Focus, Eight. She kept quiet for a moment or two after the two groups split up. Even with the distance between them, Eight could still hear Pearl cackling in the distance. Bluh. Fine. Whatever, now Eight could see what was bugging Three. Three was blushing slightly, but was otherwise silent. Hm. The two of them walked over to another shelf, one that had cooled pipes attached so everything was slightly chilled. Tap-tap-tap. Three waved at a display of dark green spheres covered in lighter green wavy arrows, and a secondary display of triangular bits that were coloured every colour of the rainbow. "Fucking Squiddymelons."  
  
... They were named _Squiddymelons?_ Seriously? Squiddymelons. Not Spectrumelons or Inkfruit or, or Squidstained Melons or, or, or anything that wasn't Squiddymelons? Wow. Eight was just. She wasn't great with words, but she liked to think she was better at words than the rest of all Inkling-kind. Just... Wow, man. "They look really colourful! Are there any red ones? I'd like to eat red ones." Red was a really good colour, and Eight would know.  
  
"Yeah. Squiddymelon can be any colour. Changes depending on what colour ink you cover it in." What. "It's got this whole weird genome thing. They're these fucking watermelons that grow on the same beaches that pre-historic squids and octopi did. Over time, they absorbed ink and evolved to use the stuff as nutrients to grow." Oh... That was cool! So it was a fruit that evolved alongside Cephalokind? Interesting!  
  
"Oooh... So they're a relic of our own history?"  
  
"Yup." Three grabbed one of the big green spheres and glared at it judgementally. She frowned, and put it back to grab a second one, which she nodded at approvingly before throwing it into the cart. Eight wished she knew what criteria Three was using to choose. Hm. Eight grabbed one of the bright red... Eurgh. Squiddymelons... And threw it into the cart. Three glanced at it for a moment and nodded. Yes! Eight snagged another two, one purple and one yellow. "Y'know, if you wanted to chat alone, there are more subtle ways of doing it."  
  
Uh oh. "IIIIII Don't Know What You're Talking About," Eight lied. It was a really bad lie. There was no worse lie around than one done reflexively to hide the fact that you weren't nearly as sneaky as you thought you were. Just. It was just. The most AWFUL sort of lie, because not even you believe it to be true or even plausible. "Really, I don't! I just thought that. That." Words, Eight. Words. "It. Would. Be... Faster! Yes, faster."  
  
The look thrown Eight's way had all the emotion and trust of a brick wall made of cement. "Uh _huh_. Callie is already an awful liar, we don't need two of them in the Splatoon."  
  
Bluh... Fine. Truth then. "I noticed that your feet were tapping the ground a lot." Three's entire body went dead still. "And I know that you aren't a fan of Marina, so... I thought... Maybe you could use a little bit of space?"  
  
Silence. Three visibly shifted uncomfortably under Eight's gaze for a moment. "... Thanks."  
  
"Not a problem." A moment passed. Three moved along to a display covered in small transparent boxes filled with little red thingies. The sign on the display labeled them as strawberries. After a long moment of silence, Three sighed and started sorting through the boxes. Mmrgh... She was starting to get a little tired... "I can't believe Inklings are all this active... I was told a filthy lie that you were all lazy hedonists back in basic training!"  
  
"We are hedonists. We do whatever we want. Even if that means sleeping in past noon and eating nothing but Cheezles."  
  
... "Is that a self-description?"  
  
Three gave her a Look. "No," Three said with the tone of somebody who was a really good liar. She grunted and threw two of the strawberry boxes into the cart. After a moment of consideration, she threw three more in. "Just got to meet up with Pearl and Marina now. Let's head over to the checkouts and meet them both there." The two of them walked away from the fruit section and over to the entrance, near the big orange desk thingies that had the numbers on them.  
  
The one labeled as 1 had a pretty small line, but it also had an additional sign saying 'NINE ITEMS OR LESS' on it. Eight could see a crustacean with ten items there and not listening to the poor person behind the desk thingy telling them to go to another desk. "So what are these things?" They all had a little... Conveyor thingy on them. There were also racks of little... Things? It kind of looked like chocolates and stuff. Eight would've followed Three all the way over to the desk thingies, but a big display near Aisle 1 caught her eye. "Oh my gosh!" Oh my gosh oh my gosh _oh my gosh!_ _Omigoshomigoshohmigosh!_ MAGAZINES! Eight broke into a wild sprint over to them! Back in the Metro, she'd had a copy of _High Colour Walker!_ It'd shown her that the Surface was definitely real! She'd read it a thousand times on the train between tests, it'd kept her sane all this time!  
  
And there was just! ISSUES! Of it! _Right there!_ With pictures of fancy people on them! At least four different ones! And there were other magazines too! One called _Inko+_ that had several people staring wistfully into the camera, and claimed that it covered both Street Culture and High Fashion. Another was called _Retro Style_ , which had a bunch of jellyfish wearing clothing that looked old enough to be eaten by bugs, yet was still stylish enough that Eight considered looking into the style. A third was simply called _FRESH_ in one of those fancy-dancy noble swirly-twirly fonts that nobody with a shred of practicality used. Eight flipped through it, but it just seemed to be people wearing stuff from Toni Kensa in boring poses looking vaguely bored. She made a note to stay away from that.  
  
Ooh! Other magazines! For different things? There were magazines for food, like _The Sweets Issue_ , which seemed to focus solely around sweet things, and _Greens Weekly_ was about lots of stuff that wasn't green, like apples and whatever those orange thingies were. Then there were some more kids based magazines, like something called _Animania_ covered in drawings of wide-eyed drawings of people, and one called _Squidserial_ that had pictures of stylish kids wielding turf weapons, all of them younger than Eight herself. The most plentiful magazines were ones about battle, notably ones like _Battler's Digest_ and _Ranker's Monthly_. Those had actual battle experts on them, with words on them about future matches and weapon analysis. It was pretty interesting!  
  
Ooh! And there was one big one, thicker than all the others, labeled _Musink!_ with a picture of Pearl and Marina on the cover! There were a bunch of little other titles on the cover, like 'Off The Hook Exclusive Interview!' and 'Four Seahorsemen Scandal' and 'Mariana Mystery Continues Its Worldwide Tour' and other things like that. "Eight! You okay?" Eight whirled around and saw Pearl and Marina walking over with their cart. Well, Marina was walking, Pearl was doing this sort of semi-glide semi-drift technique that sort of looked like she wasn't moving at all and the rest of the world was moving under her instead. It was _really_ disconcerting to look at.  
  
Eight tried to say something. It sort of just came out of her mouth as this weirdly babbling stream of solid noise. "Do you want the magazine?" Marina asked more calmly than Eight really felt at the moment. And yes. YES. Eight wanted ALL the magazines. She wanted them all so bad. SO BAD. With a simple nod, Marina proceeded to lift one copy of each magazine off the display and into her arms. "Once we pay for them, they're all yours!" Yes... YES... POWER... UNLIMITED POWER!  
  
"Eight, I get you're new to the Surface, but barely contained bouts of megalomania aren't really socially acceptable anywhere," Three grunted as she walked over.  
  
"How are you allowed in public then?" Marina grumbled.  
  
"Do you honestly think I care what society thinks about me?"  
  
"... Fair."  
  
Pearl nodded to herself. "Alright then! If that's everything, we can hit the trail!" Oh, right! Pearl and Marina had gotten that other stuff! Looking at their cart, it didn't really look like much... There was a green leafy sphere thing, some vaguely orangey-striped things, some bright red things, and some weirdly bulbous white thingies... And then suddenly, they were gone. What. "What," Pearl said, echoing Eight's own thoughts.  
  
There was suddenly a copy of _Weapons Nut Weekly_ on Three's cart, covering most of the top of the groceries there. "What?"  
  
"Where did. Did you steal from my cart."  
  
"Steal is a dirty word."  
  
"Did you take shit from my cart?"  
  
"No. That would be wrong." Eight lifted the magazine and stared at the things that Three had pilfered. "I'm just _so good_ at shopping, you guys. I got all this shit when I wasn't even paying attention. It's so weird."  
  
"Three, don't be lie!" Eight scolded.  
  
"I don't lie. I'm not like Callie."  
  
Really? "Oh, of course! You don't lie, of course, Three. If I believe that, then I _also_ believe that you respect and trust Marina and have been nice to her all day."  
  
"... You can't prove I didn't get all of these myself."  
  
"I was with you the entire time." Three was silent. "You know what I think? I think you're just inherently opposed to having to owe Marina anything."  
  
"... You're really _too good_ at reading me," Three said nervously.  
  
Marina groaned. "Can we just go to the checkouts already?"  
  
They ended up at the deskthingy (Marina called it a checkout? But she wasn't checking out anything, she was buying things. It was a dumb name.) that had the number six on it. It was shorter than most of the other lines, and they only had to wait a moment before they got to the conveyor bit. Quickly and efficiently, Three began pulling items out of the cart and placing them on the conveyor belt thingy. Eight decided to help a little and pulled out some of the bigger things.  
  
The clerk behind the desk nodded as they slid the items across some kind of scanner before placing them into bags. They were pretty quick about it! The moment the cart was empty, Pearl started throwing things from her cart onto the conveyor belt. "I'm paying!" Pearl yelled gleefully as Three wheeled her cart around to start putting bags into it.  
  
"The fuck you are. These are my groceries."  
  
"That I'm paying for! That's right!"  
  
"No."  
  
"Yup!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yup!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"No!"  
  
Oh, Eight saw where this was going.  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
Three paused. "Wait. Shit. _FUCK. NO!_ "  
  
"TOO LATE! REVENGE! AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  
  
... was it too late to go back to Mount Nantai?  
  
Eventually, they'd gotten all the items into bags and into the carts. The clerk tapped a few buttons on their computer thingy and looked at Pearl. "That'll be 523 Shells. Cash or card?" Pearl wordlessly pulled a card from her wallet and slid it through a keypad attached to the computer thingy and bopped in some numbers. A bit of paper scrolled out of the keypad, what _was_ it with the Surface and just endlessly attaching appliances to other appliances, and Pearl then grabbed it. "Have a nice day, please shop at Mako Mart again."  
  
Eight would, yeah! It was nice here!  
  
She snagged one of the magazines out of the bags - the _Musink!_ one - and pulled it open. OOOH, look at that 200 page index! "We lost Eight," Three proclaimed tonelessly. "Let's go." Eight barely noticed anything as they walked out of Mako Mart the way they came, into that big elevator. As the doors closed behind them, Eight flipped to the part about the Off The Hook interview - page 25? Really? They were totally page 1 news, why even bother hiding it? Let's see...  
  
 **Q1** : _The two of you have famously declined interviews in the past. Can I ask why?_  
 _Pearl_ : Marina hates 'em.  
 _Marina_ : I don't hate interviews, I just... Value my privacy.  
 _Pearl_ : It took me a year to know her last name.  
 _Marina_ : Not everyone screams their name to the heavens, Pearl.  
  
 **Q2** : _How did you two meet?_  
 _Pearl_ : Hiking trip.  
 _Marina_ : Separate ones, though. It was pure coincidence.  
 _Pearl_ : Yeah. But hey, cute girl asks if I want to join her band? Better believe I'm in.  
  
 **Q3** : _What influenced you as artists? Aside from the Squid Sisters, of course._  
 _Marina_ : Hmm... I'd like to say Turquoise October? I take a lot of my inspiration for melodies from their future-synth style. Sounds like home!  
 _Pearl_ : Yo. Yo. Yo. Gotta be real to me, all I can be, my real inspiration is Notorious IRU.KAND.JI! That and Chirpy Chips.  
 _Marina_ : I'd say together, our biggest influence outside of the Squid Sisters was probably Sushimi Girls? They do a lot of genre fusion music.  
  
 **Q4** : _Your debut album Wavedancer reached #7 on the Top 50 charts in a week. Did you ever expect it to get so high?_  
 _Pearl_ : Uh, yeah?  
 _Marina_ : Not as quickly, but yes. We're great.   
  
**Q5** : _Why did you name your band Off The Hook?_  
 _Marina_ : I told Pearl she was super cool, but I didn't know much Inklish back in the day... So I just told her she was off the hook. It was one of the few phrases that I knew back then...  
 _Pearl_ : Pretty girl told me a nice thing so I named our entire band after it.  
 _Marina_ : It might be hard to believe, but Pearl was an even bigger mess back in the day...  
  
 **Q6** : _What's your songwriting process?_  
 _Pearl_ : We try to be professional for like, a week.  
 _Marina_ : And then we give up!  
 _Pearl_ : Yeah. We usually figure out a good beat by tapping it out on takeout boxes with chopsticks.  
 _Marina_ : And then I record some lyrics after Pearl screams them into her pillow at three in the morning.  
 _Pearl_ : Y'know some people say that we shouldn't have fame? Weird, huh?  
  
 **Q7** : _What's your favourite venue?_  
 _Pearl_ : Starfish Mainstage!  
 _Marina_ : Oh, definitely! They have those Octoslapper QX-2s! Squidshredders and even an electronic Anemenemy drumset!  
 _Pearl_ : Geek.  
 _Marina_ : EN. THU. SI. AST.  
  
 **Q8** : _Are there ever any hidden meanings in your music?_  
 _Marina_ : Next question.  
 _Pearl_ : No comment.  
  
 **Q9** : _Are you planning any new albums?_  
 _Pearl_ : Yeah. It's Marina's baby, she spent like two weeks not sleeping.  
 _Marina_ : It's kind of a personal dream, yeah...  
  
 **Q10** : _DJs are a new sensation in the music scene right now. How do you feel it changes your music?_  
 _Marina_ : It's nothing big. I actually used to be more of a bass player, but... I took up the turntables in memory of a friend.  
  
Eight froze. In the time she'd been reading, they'd wandered over to the car and started placing the groceries into the kettle in the back of the car. Well, Marina, Pearl and Three were. Eight was just leaning against the car and reading. But that line. That one, specific line. In memory of a friend? Was it that... The... Mmgh. Something was pressing against the back of her head. A friend. Was it either Lorelei or Arlene? Arlene. Why her brain decided that, she had no idea. Some kind of... Idea? No... A sound, was pushing forward through the haze. It was less... Muddled, than the other memories had been. Maybe she was clearing it away, bit by bit?  
  
 ~~ _iztmvm tcvctibi eia i ycqmb wvm. apm xzmnmzzml bw tmb pmz uwbqwva ivl qlmia axmis nwz pmz. bpm nme bquma bpib kixbiqv ozquu pil jmmv amzqwcatg qvrczml, apm pil bczvml aycil 25 wdmz bw qvb-wxa nwz awum cvsvwev zmiawv. epqtm vwb i uiabmz wn ivg emixwvzg wz bikbqk, pmz mgm nwz lmbiqt eia cvuibkpml jg vmiztg ivg wbpmz qv pmz lqdqaqwv, ivitghqvo ivg aqbcibqwv eqbp iv mgm dwql wn jqia ivl nqttml eqbp kwtl pizl nikb. mqopb lqlv'b svwe epib bw nmmt ijwcb pmz... awum sqvl wn eizubp? epg lql mqopb nmmt bpm aium ijwcb pmz ia apm lql pmz kixbiqv?_~~  
  
 ~~ _apm eiav'b i nqopbmz, jcb bpm nme bquma apm pil jmmv nwzkml bw emzm jtwwlg ivl viabg. ituwab kibiowzqkittg wxxwaml bw nqopbqvo ktmiv wz niqz, apm pil bicopb mqopb uwab wn pmz viabqmz bikbqka. mdmvbcittg, jwbp apm ivl i nzqmvl emzm iaaqovml i bias. i jzcbit, acqkqlittg tmbpit bias. bziks iomvb bpzmm, nqvl pmz emisvmaama. mqopb jizmtg zmumujmzml bpm nwwbiom. itt apm svme eia bpib bpmg pil ixxzwikpml, aqtmvb ia bpm ozidm. bpm tqopba emvb wnn. ivl bpmv itt bpib eia tmnb eia i xiqz wn wkbw owootma tgqvo qv i xclltm wn ozmmv qvs, ivl i ozmmv iomvb bpzmm abitsqvo bweizla i hixnqap._~~  
  
 ~~ _awwv inbmz, kixbiqv ozquu lzwevml pmzamtn qv ewzs. ivl uizqvi lzqnbml ieig, kwuxtmbqvo tmaa ivl tmaa ewzs ia bpm liga emvb jg._~~  
  
 ~~ _bpm wvtg bpqvo tmnb wn iztmvm eia i aqvotm ozmg ivl epqbm kix. ivl epmv bpm kixbiqv lqml, apm bwws bpib eqbp pmz._~~  
  
 ~~ _mqopb mdmvbcittg nwzowb ijwcb pmz._~~  
  
 ~~ _apm pil uwzm quxwzbivb bpqvoa bw bpqvs ijwcb, ia uizzqai ewctl bmtt pmz._~~  
  
 _Ow_. The pain still hit hard, though it was barely a split second this time. Who was that? It felt like she was important... Wait, Eight's fingers were empty. Where did the magazine go? "Eight? Eight, are you okay? Speak to me!" Huh? Marina? Why was she holding... Oh no. She'd seen. And was now looking worried. That meant... Eight turned her head to see Pearl freaking out, and Three wide-eyed and terrified. "Did you remember something?"  
  
"Come on, Eight! Talk to us!" Pearl yelled. Oh no, Eight wanted to scream. They all knew. This was so very, very bad. Okay, so... Pearl would be cool about it, Pearl was cool. Three was panicking, and Eight still didn't know why she didn't like Eight having momentary blackouts to regain her memory. "God, I thought you had your freakout episode back at the Square..." Both Marina and Three jolted and snapped their heads towards Pearl. Aaaand Eight was dead! Officially, this time. Dead in the water. Just throw a real big _hook_ through her abs, no need to hesitate. She'd be dead either way.  
  
Three swore wildly for almost a full minute. "Goddamn it! I _told_ you that if you start feeling like shit again, you needed to tell me!" No, Three. Three. Stop. Do not. Don't. No.  
  
Marina looked at Three. "Wait. Again?"  
  
"This morning, she said she remembered something," Three replied as she breathed in and out slowly. Darn it Three, couldn't you be cagey and aggressive this _one_ time?! Such jerk. Much annoy. Oh wow. "She just fucking froze for like, an entire fucking minute. Didn't say a fucking word or fucking anything, she just stood there and didn't fucking move. When she came to, she just mentioned that she remembered something, and then asked me not to mention it." Oooh, Eight was so busted!  
  
"Same here," Marina said as her eyes widened.  
  
Pearl frowned. "Yeah, same! What the heck Eight!"  
  
"... Bluh. I kept remembering things. Today was meant to be a normal thing, and I... I wanted to be a normal person. Not an Octarian soldier or an escapee or anything, I just... Wanted to try clothes and go shopping and have some food and be as weird as everyone else. I didn't want to just, remember all this sadness and awfulness from my past. Every time I remember it, it gets worse. People leave or die or they're taken and, and, and I don't! Want! To _think_ about it! At all! I want to _abandon_ all of that, and just be Eight! Not that awful person who stole Zapfish, or the stupid girl who fell into that test track, I just want to be a normal person!"  
  
Both Marina and Pearl wrapped their arms around Eight again. Darn it... Why did she just... Mmrgh! She didn't want to think about this! At all! Ever! And, and, her eyes were getting all teary and gross, she hated this! She hated it! "Eight, you're a good person," Three stated as she finished throwing all the groceries into the trunk of the car. "You saved my life. You saved _their_ lives. You saved the lives of _every single fucking person in the city._ The person you were before? You aren't them. I don't think you can be, to be honest."  
  
"I hate agreeing with Three, but she's right," Marina said quietly. Eight couldn't see it, but she could definitely feel Marina's grip get tighter. "You're a fantastic person. You're smart, you're nice, you'll go far! I can't see a single reason, not one, that you'll become the person you were again. And even then, we'd all be here to bring you _back_ if you did. Okay?"  
  
Pearl patted Eight Eight on the waist. Mostly because that was as far up as she could reach. "Yeah man, you're a class act! No way you could do any of that shit again! Look, do you want to be that person?" Eight shook her head. "Then don't. Frankly speakin', I do want to get your memories back for you, but I could not give two shits about whoever you were. This you, the one in front of me? They're the only one that matters to me, okay?"  
  
Bluh. Eight moved her hand up and moved the tears away from her eyes. "... Thank you. It... It feels good to hear that."  
  
Marina let go and suddenly snapped her fingers. "Oh! Right! Eight would've had an ID Code! Do you know what it is? I might have known you!"  
  
Eight knew it. But she knew, even as Three told Marina the ID that Octavio had yelled yesterday, that it wouldn't do any good. They could scream Eight's real name until they were blue in the face, it would never do any good. Her brain just... _Skipped_ over it. Not even the same kind of skipping that a vidscreen would do with footage or anything, the kind of skipping where you ignore certain noises or sounds or actions because they hold no relevance to you. The kind where you understand that something happened, but you just... Don't care.  
  
Marina said Eight's name. Said it again. And again. And _again_. "It won't work," Eight whispered quietly. "It won't work. It's just... Noise."  
  
A quiet sob tore itself out of Marina's throat. "Oh god... Oh _god_ , Eight, I... I'm so sorry. I thought you were, that you were all, I thought you were gone too, I didn't think, I didn't think you were..." Marina tightened her hug and exhaled sharply. "Eight, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left, I should have never gone without you or Catherine or Marcus or Marrisa or Tamara, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, Eight."  
  
"It's okay," Eight sniffed. Something about this felt right. About this hug. She'd known Marina back then too. It wasn't memorable, but she'd been there. "I forgive you."  
  
A tired laugh. "You really shouldn't."  
  
"I do though. It's fine."  
  
Pearl shook her head. "I feel like I'm missing a _billion_ developments right now."  
  
Three sighed. "You probably are." She placed a foot on a cart and kicked it fiercely. Eight absently noted that it glided across the carpark and slotted neatly into a row of carts against the far wall. Pearl repeated the action with the second cart. Something beeped. "... Fucking hell, are you actually goddamn serious? How the fuck do they have enough time in the day?!"  
  
Eight didn't respond, she was still too busy hugging Marina, but she did keep an ear out. "What's up?"  
  
"Callie and Marie have a new goddamn song out. Called Fresh Start, they sent me an MP3 for it." Lucky! Maybe Eight would get a Squid Sisters MP3 one day. Whatever an MP3 was. "I wouldn't be as freaked if they hadn't also apparently broken into Octo Canyon for a complete file on Eight and her old squad. This means they somehow composed and sang an entire song in under three hours or so."  
  
"When you gotta hit that rhythm," Pearl said calmly. "You gotta hit it."  
  
"That. No. That doesn't explain jack shit."  
  
"You can't _explain_ music, dawg."  
  
 _"I hate you. With all of my hate."_  
  
"They have my file?" Eight asked quietly. The dossier that she'd been shown yesterday had given her a good idea for what she'd done, but it was just a dossier. Compared to the size of a proper file, it might as well have been a single slip of paper. A file on her... It'd be a comprehensive list of everything she'd ever done. It might even be enough to jog her memory... "That's... Good."  
  
Pearl yawned loudly. "Come on! Let's head to wherever Three lives so we can watch some bad movies and eat half of this shit before it melts or whatever."  
  
Oh! Good idea. As they moved, Three interrupted Marina. "Y'know... Eight might not be able to hear her name, but I bet she'd be able to hear a bunch of irrelevant stuff..."  
  
Silence. Marina sighed. "Fine. This once." And then instead of climbing in the front with Pearl, Marina got in the back with Eight. "So... I knew your Captain. Do you want to... Hear about her?"  
  
"... Yeah." Eight would really like that. More than anything else.  
  
As they buckled up and Pearl turned on the engine, Three plugged her phone in again. Fresh Start, she'd said the new song was called? It had a nice melody...  
  
 _"Why be scared of the hope that you were given? Why be afraid to give a big smile? We're standing here with you... We're standing by your side, forever!"_

  
\---

  
A non-descript white car parked across the street from Flatfish Apartments. A woman stepped out, yellow tentacles shifting to a deeper blue. Her plaid hoodie had been replaced with a Forge Inkling Parka, her boots with Punk Yellows, and her glasses were overshadowed by a Bamboo Hat.  
  
Granny Burnes smiled as she lifted the phone to her ear. "Lola, has the money gone through yet?"  
  
The sweet melodious tones of Lola were always music to her ears, they really were. _"Yes, Agent Burnes. Everything is in place."_ Sweet. Meant she didn't have to wait for the call to come in. Mr Mayor could _always_ be a pain in the old keister. _"Are you sure you want to go through with this? While I agree that the new Octarian on the Surface should be taken care of, to leave 85-888 in the hands of Agent Three--"_  
  
"Agent Three ain't gonna do a thing to that girl, Lola." Granny leaned back into the car and pulled out a large box. Whoops, forgot to sign it! She grabbed a marker from her pocket and wrote a quick message in dark green marker. For... Miss... 8... Love... G. There. "It'll be fine. Trust in me. Now, where does the tracker say they are?"  
  
 _"The one you planted on their... Car, was it?"_  
  
"Of course!" Wouldn't be a proper operation if there wasn't at least _one_ tracking device! She'd slapped it onto the car back at The Reef. Hadn't been easy with the crowds, but she'd managed to break into the car and cut a hole into one of the seats and slip it in before making a getaway. "Give me a time, my dear, I am on the clock."  
  
 _"Currently, they're only five minutes out from that Mako Mart place. At current speed, you have just under fifty minutes before they get arrive."_ Ah, that was plenty of time. Especially here. The place was so woefully undefended! She'd thought Three was more paranoid than this... Hm. Well, something to interrogate her about later. _"You haven't told me why you're so invested in 85-888 yet."_  
  
Granny tutted as she approached the building. "Ah ah ah! She goes by Eight now. We should respect her current choices in moniker. Just as you do for me!"  
  
 _"... Of course, Agent Burnes. But my question remains."_  
  
Hmph. Why indeed. "I've seen every Octarian out of those caves, Lola. Her? I have never met that child in my damn life. She got up here, without me." She appreciated the sharp breath Lola took. It meant something to her old heart that people respected her enough to understand what she meant. "Furthermore... She's connected to Marina Ida, the earliest and most successful traitor we have on record, and Agent Three, who needs no further context."  
  
Up the stairs now... Oof. These darn Inklings. Didn't they know about the pleasantness of a good ramp or two? Bah. _"I... See."_  
  
Did she? Hm. "Either way... She's an Octarian, and on the Surface. That means she's part of my pod. Got that?"  
  
A sigh. _"Yes, Agent Burnes."_ She heard a tap-tap-tap as she hit the halfway point of the building. It was floor 8, right? _"Moving from that topic, what are your efforts in figuring out what links Blacksite Theta to the Surface?"_  
  
"I have found a definite link, yeah. You remember how our shipment trackers saw a random jump in location from Nantai to the Surface? Well, the area it jumped to is now literally swarming with law enforcement." A polite word for an impolite situation. Couldn't look into it without somebody looking back. The UO, mostly... More interestingly, a personal visit from _Mister Grizz_ himself warning her to back off. Handsome man, that Mister Grizz.  
  
Lola huffed loudly. Poor thing, being overworked so badly... Next time Granny headed back, she'd make sure to repay Lola for all the hard work she'd done with some _hard work_ of her own... _"I wish we knew what the hell to make of all this."_  
  
"Same here. Luckily, I have a hunch that the Squidbeak Splatoon is going to be on the case soon." Floor eight, there we go. It wassss... Ah, there it was. Room 8-0-8. Granny put the package on the ground and pulled out a bobby pin. "Both Eight and Agent Three were close to that area the other day. If anybody has answers... It's them." _Click_. There it was. Door was open! She picked up the package again and peeked inside.   
  
Ooh, empty and depressing. Such an Agent Three mood. She hoped that's how you say it. If it wasn't, she needed to pay those children a visit... She placed the package on the kitchen counter, making carefully sure not to leave any kind of marking behind. Granny glanced at the laptop. A paused Huetube video from Nat King Coral was on display. Yup, this was Three's apartment. _"Agent Burnes, forty minutes."_ Yeah yeah, she got it...  
  
Hm. Peek inside the other rooms, or get out? Duh.  
  
Bathroom had a bowl full of odd plastic scraps... Granny snagged one and slipped it inside an evidence bag. The pile of black leather against the far wall was interesting... Did Three have _other_ interests? Oh, the moment she found a way to legitimately find out about this, Three was teased to hell and back. Still, had some gunk on it... She gathered a small amount of it onto a spare matchstick and threw it into another evidence bag. The bedroom had little to interest her with, but the Hero Suit was interesting to see. Had some gunk on it... And some blood. _Damn_ it kid, what the hell was she mixed up in? Wounds bad enough to deliver that level of blood on them... That was rare. Really rare. Hopefully the kid wasn't hurt too badly...  
  
Mmrgh. Fine. She got some evidence, she could be content with this. Silently, she slipped out the front door, relocked it and leapt over the balcony railing. Granny Burnes was cool like that, an eight-floor fall meant nothing to her. Silent landing, hell yes. She sprinted across the street and hopped back into her car before driving away at high speed. "Lola. Have a R&D team ready, I'm sending you evidence. Look into it for me."  
  
 _"R &D Team 4 will be on standby, Agent Burnes."_ Good to hear.  
  
At least something will come out of today. She had the pieces, but they wouldn't _fit._ Eight was somehow an Octoling trained for battle under Tamara Grimm, yet somehow had less marks on her than the average Inkling did. Eight somehow didn't have her memories, but had the instinct to use her considerable skills. Eight, a member of Squad 25, a Squad that somehow worked in Sector Five under Octavio himself, had somehow gone AWOL, had somehow done it without anybody noticing for an entire day, which meant she had somehow gotten past not just Octarian troopers, but Granny's own allies AND the Squidbeak Splatoon, without literally anybody noticing a fucking thing until today. Eight, an Octarian, had somehow met Three, who was not their biggest fan and had a damn good reason to shoot any Octo she saw on the Surface, and then also made close enough friends with Three that somehow, there wasn't a single word of argument between the two of them.  
  
 _ **SOMEHOW**_ , Granny was _really fucking sick of that goddamn piece of shit word._  
  
Once she handed this evidence over to the R&D team, she was going to go home and _scream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so very sorry this chapter took so long


	7. Home Sweet Home

_Dear Captain Grimm, you taught us all._  
 _For you we marched, your words were harsh_  
 _But you cared, for us you would brawl._  
  
 _You seemed so content with your lot._  
 _A mere Captain, how did that happen?_  
 _You deserved more than what you got._  
  
 _I lost them all, but you came first._  
 _Stood so tall, didn't think you'd fall,_  
 _But you were gone, and we all burst._  
  
 _Though parted by the ocean deep,_  
 _My oldest friend, we met again._  
 _I touched your face, you fell to sleep._  
  
 _To plant a tree's its own reward_  
 _After you're gone, it will grow on_  
 _In memory, initials scarred._  
  
 _I leave without ceremony._  
 _Don't be too sore I wanted more._  
 _My sincerest apology._  
  
\---

  
Eight was tired. In a good way, for once.  
  
They'd apparently spent a while in Mako Mart. While it'd been daylight when they went in, it'd set before they came back out. And instead of a blank dark sky at night like the vidscreens of the Domes had shown her, the sky on the Surface was full of beautiful glimmering lights! There was a big white one in the sky as well, apparently called the Moon? Eight liked it a lot! It was so glowy... Plus, she could look at it and not feel her eyes scream! That was great.  
  
The world looked so different at night... Back in the city, it'd been filled with glowing neon lights, like the city was afraid that if even a single corner was dark it'd be the end of the world. But out on the outskirts of the city, where Three lived, it was... Quieter. Softer. There were lights on in the windows, but not many cars or people moving about. Off in the distance, Eight could see bursts of colour fire up into the sky and detonate into flowers of light. "Clownfish Park... Been a while since we last hit that joint, Reena."  
  
"Stop making it sound like we're gangsters, Pearlie."  
  
"Never."  
  
"Ugghhhhhhh."  
  
The car slowly drifted to a halt. Eight clutched the bundle of flowers. A few petals had fallen off, but it was still in good shape. Still good. Still real. "Wow, Three. You live here?" Marina asked cautiously. Eight didn't see what she was talking about - it was really nice! It had safety railings on the balconies, it had stairs, it was like a real noble's home! It even had paint on the walls! "It certainly is... It's certainly a thing." Right? It even had BALCONIES! Super weird!  
  
Three yawned tiredly. "It's cheap." The entirety of her answer. "Alright, how the fuck are we going to get all the shit in the kettle up to my apartment?"  
  
Marina yawned. "It's simple." The entirety of her answer. "Let's go, then!"  
  
As they all clambered out of the car, Eight noticed the dots on both Pearl and Three's tentacles began glowing vibrantly, and the undersides of their tentacles flickered with soft rainbow light. That was weird... Octarians had their bioluminescence active all the time - they worked in darkness a lot - so for Inklings to only activate theirs when they were actively in the dark? Very weird. "The question occurs to me. My apartment is on the eighth floor, and ink only lasts so long before it gets eaten by bacteria. How are we moving everything from the kettle to my apartment under that sort of time limit?"  
  
That... Wasn't how it worked. Inkshifting just meant you pushed an object inside your own personal ID Mass - a personal pocket dimension. You didn't need two pools. "Not how that works, but it'd be much easier if I did this. I already said it would be simple, right?" Marina asked. She moved to the back of the car and twisted the little logo icon on the back of the trunk.  
  
When she lifted the top of the trunk... The lid was still closed? Wait, no! There was a _second_ trunk inside it! It was locked into the car via several security latches and locks, all connected to a single keypad with glowing green numbers. "A single keypad lock? Seems sort of easy to hack," Eight told her slowly as Marina's claws started dancing across the keypad.  
  
"You forgot my skills. It's biometrically locked to my own DNA. Nobody but me can touch it without getting electrocuted. However, even if that wasn't the case, I put a variety of other security measures in place as well." Oooh! Eight could definitely imagine some fancy stuff going on there... "You see my claws here? The lock is designed to zap you if you don't touch it with that colour. It's also designed to zap you if you don't hit the keys with the same speed and pressure as I do. There are twenty-three passwords, all of which need to be entered sequentially with a two-second gap between each one, and then you have to wait ten whole seconds before it unlocks everything. If you put in a twenty-fourth password, you get zapped. Also, it's inkproof, and has a camera that sends me security alerts if it doesn't see that I'm opening it."  
  
Eight whistled loudly. "Nice. You come up with that yourself?"  
  
"Parts of it. Others came from anime, or movies. Inklings are very good at coming up with needlessly complicated ideas."  
  
"Oi," Pearl said, but didn't argue.  
  
A loud beep sounded as all the latches and locks disconnected. Marina then slipped her claws in the small gap between the side of the actual trunk and this smaller one, lifted it, and then rotated the trunk until the keypad faced the bottom. Removing her fingers, she then pushed down on the surface and let go, a panel opening up as she did. A small handle popped out, one that Eight noted was specifically designed to be held and lifted by Marina. "Even if somebody were to get it out, they would also need to use this handle - the rest of the kettle would electrocute you until it was released." Very nice.  
  
"Paranoid much?" Three snarked.  
  
"You exist to destroy everything I love, so no."  
  
"Couldn't somebody just cut away the back of the trunk and steal it?" Eight asked suddenly. She watched as Marina went dead still.  
  
Silence reigned. "That," Marina said shakily. "Will be resolved in a future update."  
  
Pearl groaned. "You're gonna turn the car into a fucking _tank_ at this rate, Reena..."  
  
"An excellent idea!" Marina yelled as she pulled the kettle-trunk out of the car.  
  
"Wait, you can just move kettles?" Three asked.  
  
Which was a pretty silly question! "What do you think the handles are for?" Three froze and looked off into space for a second. "Did you never think about it?"  
  
"... Not really? I thought it was like. A tradition... Thing?" It's more of a question than an answer. "Also, I thought it was like... The Grates were? Linked to the Domes. Underground. So they had to like. Be geographically linked?"  
  
That was a good thought. It was really too bad that it was entirely wrong. They were linked, true, but given how easily you could chain Domes together, you never actually had to leave through a Kettle to travel from Dome to Dome. The Kettles were more a diversion tactic to catch traitors and infiltrators. From inside the Kettles, it was downright stupid to even try to leave the Domes. Domes could be cut off from the overall network, leaving the Kettles as the only entrance - which ultimately made sneaking around almost impossible. Alarms and cameras were mounted on every Kettle entrance, all of which were monitored daily.  
  
It was designed to be as hard to get in and out stealthily as possible - even if you got away clean with no injuries, you'd be recognized as an enemy. Not even Three could manage it, and for all her faults she seemed very good at her job. "It is tradition," Eight told her, since that technically wasn't wrong, and also because she was still slightly afraid she was dreaming or something. "Should we get to your apartment or something?"  
  
"... Yeah." Three gave a Dramatic Sigh and waved as she wandered over to the building. Pearl locked the car with a loud BEE-BEEP, and Marina held Eight's hand as they walked after her. "Fucking eight flights of stairs... Octarians have it fucking great. Don't have to deal with fucking stairs. Everybody knows that elevators are way cooler." Three continued to grumble like this for the next two minutes as they walked up what felt like an infinite staircase. Eight definitely agreed with her - ramps were way nicer and smoother than stairs.  
  
"If you hate this many stairs, why live out here?" Pearl asked about halfway up.  
  
"Not really much choice. It's cheap."  
  
"You work for the IWTA, you earn over 50 kay every week, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah. _What?_ What's your _fucking_ point? It's cheap." She pulled out her keys as they approached the door she'd walked out of this morning, muttering dark things to herself. Room 8-0-8. "Fucking number, I was practically fucking destined to have this goddamn job, wasn't I?" Click. The door swung open, and Three didn't take a single step before her face froze in shock.  
  
Eight peered over her shoulder and saw the large brown-ish package laying on the counter, visible from the doorway. "That wasn't there this morning."  
  
Three barreled in. Eight led Pearl and Marina in. "Man, this place is fucking barren," Pearl said after a few moments. While Three was having her heart attack, Eight decided to look at the package. It was fairly big, around the size of her head. On the top was a message in green Octarian text - reading _'For Miss 8. Love, G'_ in blocky letters. Hm. She pressed her ear against the side of it. No ticking... Definitely not a bomb. She gave it a solid flick. Something was in it, but she didn't hear any liquid movement, so no Ink weaponry...  
  
"It might be a Beakon," Marina said after a moment.  
  
"No. Too much movement." Lots of little somethings moving about in it...  
  
Three stormed back in. "Whoever the fucker was, they didn't take anything. Didn't touch much either." Well, at least there was that... "What's the box say?"  
  
Eight tilted it so Three could see it. Three swore murderously. "We gonna open it, or..." Pearl asked after a minute. "I mean, burglary or not, somebody broke in to give it to you."  
  
Marina put down the Kettle for a moment. "Y-Yeah, we should..." Her claws lashed out and severed the few bits of tape keeping the package sealed shut. And inside there were two smaller boxes, one with a large 8 drawn on it, the other had... The other... "That's your real name written on it." Why would it...  
  
"Fucking Granny," Three snarled as she pulled the 8 Box out. She ripped open the top and... "What the fuck is all this?"  
  
Pearl hoisted herself up onto the counter. "Lemme take a look, I got experience with pointless bureaucratic shit. Hm..." She pulled out a few bits of paper and looked them over. "It's documentation. Of the fact that Eight's a real person."  
  
"Care to explain?" Eight asked nervously, laying her flowers onto the counter.  
  
Pearl put down document after document. "Birth certificate, proof of identity, medical history, passport, proof of citizenship... Now that I know Octarians are a thing, a whole fuckload of falsified documents about where you went to school, family history, your family moved here from overseas, roughly over a year ago you were admitted to a hospital for memory loss... This is all _really_ comprehensive." What the heck... "Oh, here we go. Something that isn't a document. It's a letter."  
  
A letter? "For me?" Eight asked. Pearl nodded.  
  
"To the girl with no memory. Sorry, but this is a bit slapdash. You were a surprise, I won't lie. These are backup copies of the original documents - if anything goes wrong, you'll need them. Now then, down to business. The box marked with an '8' is for your use while you have no memory. The second box is for when you reclaim your memories, all with your real name. Just nip down to city hall and ask for it to be refiled, they'll know what it means. I wish you all the luck in your new life here in Inkopolis. Love, G." Pearl paused for a moment. "There's a bunch of contact info if you need help."  
  
Eight glanced at the other box. Opening it... Yeah. This was the same sort of documentation, just with her old name on it. Right. The 8 Box, that all had her current name of Eight on them... There was an extra addition. _'Eight Astra'._ "... I get a last name? I get a real last name?"  
  
"Of _course_ you do," Marina replied quietly. "Even if we didn't have all this, we still would've helped you find a last name. You're a person, just like us."  
  
Eight wrapped her arms around Marina for a long moment. "... Thank you."  
  
"Granny has blocked my number," Three declared after a moment, looking like she wanted to murder something in as bloody a fashion as possible. "Entirely. Interrogations will have to wait for a while. Ida, we should get this show on the road. There's frozen shit in that Kettle, I need it in my freezer before it melts."  
  
Eight stared at the box of papers and documents that said she existed. That she was a real person. "Um... Three? Is there anywhere I can keep all this safe?"  
  
"Bedroom wardrobe. Shelf visible from the bottom," Three replied as she hopped into the Kettle. Okay... Eight put everything back into the box, picked it up, and carried the package into Three's room. The CLOSET had two shelves - one that was normal, the one Three wanted her to put the package on - and a second one that was hidden _above_ the frame. There was something up there, but even with her height, she couldn't quite reach it. How did _Three_ get up there? Hm. Food for thought. She slipped the package with all the documents onto the visible shelf and carefully pulled her nice new shoes off and placed them next to the doorframe.  
  
The moment she came back out, a sense of... Not normality, but something like it, washed over her. Meaning that Pearl and Marina were making fun of Three. "Three, are you a time traveler or something? Are you dead? Are you a ghost from the 50s, here to haunt me with your tacky ideas of interior decoration?"  
  
"Why do you ask."  
  
"Everything in this apartment looks like it came from the 50s or my Gram-Gram's home."  
  
"I mean. The 50s had good aesthetics."  
  
"Dude, get with it. 90s forever, man."  
  
"I refuse to 'Get With It'. I will do the opposite of that. Endeavouring to travel beyond 'It', I shall divorce myself from the concept of 'Getting With'. Alone in the vast unending blackness of space, I shall stare at the vast mass of madness that is 'It' and tell it to fuck right off."  
  
"Emo edgelord."  
  
"I'm not emo anymore."  
  
"Anymore? What, did you write poetry?"  
  
Three ignored them and looked at Eight. "Eight. Over here. Check it." She shook her head to the right, and on the counter where the package had been were her flowers. But instead of being in the paper that they'd been in all day, they were in a square-ish vase that seemed to be made of the night sky. "Made of something called blue sandstone. It looked nice, so... Yeah."  
  
Eight walked over and sniffed the flowers. Without the paper in the way, she could really get her nose in for a good smell. "Mmm! I love it!"  
  
Three's face went slightly orange again. "N-No problem."  
  
Marina rolled her eyes for some reason as she hopped back into the kettle and pulled the lid shut.   
  
Pearl was patting down some old papers. They looked like they had pictures and stuff on them...? "This shit is newspaper. Usually doesn't have anything cool in it, so you can use it to cover up the floor in case of wet stuff. We need a space to pull off an Inkshift to get all the furniture out, and Three apparently has some really shitty downstairs neighbours."  
  
"Mr Laker will scream about anything," Three grumbled, hopping into the Kettle. Over the next few minutes, Marina transported the groceries out of the Kettle, while Three and Pearl slowly moved all the furniture out and put it against the wall next to the front door. There was some light conversation, though Eight didn't pay much attention to it. She just kind of let it wash over her. It was good! It was quiet. The sort of quiet that was enjoyable.   
  
"Y'know, I _thought_ I recognized your crazy ass."  
  
"Care to explain, Pearl?" Three asked.  
  
"You're the crazy asshole who debuted the Golden Dynamo."  
  
"Debuted?" Eight asked curiously.  
  
Three nodded. "In order to generate sales and excitement about a weapon, the creators hand it off to a random Splat Battler one month before it hits stores. I got the blueprint for him, so I got to debut it."  
  
"It was NUTS!" Pearl laughed. "Most people aren't strong enough to wield it normally, it's crazy heavy? Ink splatter is wider too. But Three is apparently a fucking freakazoid, so she just threw that around like it was a normal Roller!"  
  
"I had the muscle, didn't see a reason not to use it."  
  
"Keep talking yourself up, I'm sure it'll make the ladies flock to ya."  
  
"I've told Callie and Marie this, but - believe it or not - I'm not into the whole romance thing."  
  
Marina shook her head as she hauled the last of the groceries out of the kettle. "You keep telling yourself that."  
  
" _Okay?_ I will?" Three replied confusedly.  
  
The moment everything was out of the Kettle, Three waved everyone away from the kitchen area. "Gonna make something."  
  
Marina nodded to herself. "Eight, do you still want to try a new hairstyle? Or tentaclestyle, if you're determined to keep using that word."  
  
Ooh! Yes! That'd be nice! "Yup! Can we do it now???"  
  
Marina nodded with a smile. "Sure thing!"  
  
While Eight was excited to have her tentacles styled, she was also sort of uncomfortably aware of the fact that her entire body was cold. Yes, she was wearing pants and a sweater. What of it. She was _cold_. Sue her. As Marina pulled a bag full of tentacle-styling items from a bag, Eight proceeded to gather up all the blankets on the sofa-bed thingy and wrap them around herself as tightly as possible. Around herself, she created a perfect Armour Of Warmth. Yesssss... "Can we do it now?"  
  
Marina rolled her eyes and started pulling bits and pieces from the bag. None of them really seemed too important. "I said we could, right? Now, I have a few options for you..." Eight caught sight of a large stick thingy that had two buttons on it, one marked with a sun and the other marked with a white snowflake. "So we can go curly, straight, bouncy, maybe an undercut?"  
  
Hm. Hmmmmm. _Hmmmmmmmmmm_. Well. She didn't want the weird... Short-cut that Pearl or Fyra had. Those were really weird. And while she really, REALLY liked the big fancy tentacle knots that Callie and Marie had, the idea of tying her really versatile tentacles up into a useless mess didn't quite appeal to her. And just leaving her tentacles untouched like Three or Marina felt... Unprofessional? Yeah, that was the word. Maybe if she... "Um. Marina? Could you make me look like my old Captain?"  
  
"... Not a problem."  
  
"Thank you, Marina."  
  
Marina lifted the stick thingy, pressed down on the sun button, and then pressed it against the back of Eight's head. A slightly tingly wave of heat spread out through her tentacles, followed by a sharp spike of pain, and then nothing as all sensation in her tentacles faded, and they went limp and lifeless. Bluh... Creepy. She could sort of feel Marina touching her tentacles, but only in a distant numb sort of way... "Reena, want me to set this up for you?" Pearl asked, nodding at Marina's laptop.  
  
"Go ahead. Eight, lean your head back?" Marina grabbed Eight's two front tentacles and pulled them so that she could tie them off at the back of Eight's head. The tips fell just above her shoulders, which was good since this all felt pretty slimey. Then, her two back tentacles were looped into the tie, though they were twisted at an angle that meant they touched her shoulders directly rather than falling near her neck. "This'll feel weird, okay?" Um. Okay? Eight didn't really see how much weirder this could feel, but she trusted Marina.  
  
Suddenly, Eight could feel something sharp slowly cutting through the tips of her tentacles, slowly enough that they were healing and mending over but not re-fusing the same way they were before. It was odd, she could feel the sharp edges - but also not-feel the sharp edges. Maybe the numbness was getting to her. Over at the vidscreen, Pearl was carefully trying to plug a cable into the device without knocking it onto the floor. It seemed almost impossible, given how short she was. "Anyways, what movie are we starting with? I mean, you got three, right?"  
  
Oh. That was a good question. Well, she had liked Spacegate. It'd looked fancy. And that other one, The Nightmare Before Squidmas looked very cute! Inkstrike seemed weird. Honestly, she'd only gotten it because everybody seemed excited about those Jasmine Bass films. Maybe she should get that out of the way first. "Um... Inkstrike? What even are these movies about anyway?"  
  
Pearl laughed, the excitement somehow seeming to stretch her as she suddenly reached up and connected the cable in a single movement. "Okay! Jasmine Bass is about a professional spy, who foils the heinous plans of terrorists and murderers around the world, with cool gadgets and weapons! She meets all the attractive women, has all the cool cars, ARGH, she's just so COOL!"  
  
"She's a Seafolk too," Three supplied from the kitchen. Eight would've looked at her, but Marina was still busy styling Eight's tentacles. "Meaning that she does all that with basically none of the advantages that we're used to - she can't slip under doorcracks, she can't hide in ink, and she can't Superjump." Ooooh. _Competency_. Interesting.  
  
"And every few movies, they change the actor to somebody new!" Pearl continued. "My fave is Eartha Kingfish, since Glowfly is the _actual best movie_ shut up Three nobody cares."  
  
"First off, Glowfly is only so fondly remembered because it came directly before Deep Blue, the best Kingfish movie. Secondly, you're an idiot if you think Michelle Pufferfish wasn't the best Bass. She used basically no gadgets through her entire run!" Three seemed to think this was impressive. "Plus, her movies were amazing as a finale to the franchise, and Halle Bask's revival was an atrocity."  
  
"Halle Bask is not that bad!" Marina protested.  
  
"Reena. Love of my life. Beautiful queen of the turntables. Are you insane," Pearl said slowly.  
  
Eight decided to save Marina. "Um! Maybe in a few days, we can watch all of them together? And I can decide whether Marina is right or not." Eight felt Marina's arms wrap around her tighter than a vice. "Can we put the movie on now?"  
  
There was a loud clatter from the kitchen, followed by several thumps. "I can grab the snacks. Don't fill up too much though." Yaaaaaay! Three suddenly _thwumped_ down next to Eight, arms filled with snacks. Things like the chips and chocolates they'd bought at Makomart suddenly spread out over the sofa, though the Salt  & Vinegar chips were viciously guarded by Three.  
  
The vidscreen suddenly flickered on, and Pearl dusted off her hands. "Donezo. We're good to go!" Pearl hopped onto the sofa next to Marina, and squeezed in. "Just gimme the word, and we're good to go!" _Yessss!_  
  
"Start it now," Marina said, slamming her finger down on the white snowflake button as she pressed it against Eight's head. The cutting sensation suddenly faded, followed by a sharp and searing COLD that spread across her head. Feeling suddenly returned to every single inch of her body, and her tentacles suddenly burst back into feeling. Whew... "There we go! It still needs to settle and fully heal, but it's just about done. I'll find a mirror for you once we're done with this movie."  
  
Eight pushed one of her feet out of her Armour Of Infinite Warmth, hooked it around a bag of Curlies and then dragged it back inside her blanket mound. She glanced at Pearl, who was tearing open a bag of Triangulos and shoving like six orangey triangles into her maw. Okay, so... Grasp the sides and pull? She could do that. Beneath her blanket-y armour, she felt the bag open. Eight reached in with one of her claws, snagged one of the items within, and then pushed it up through the neckhole of her armour. It was a little orange puff. She popped it into her mouth.  
  
Mm. Mm? Mmmph. Mmhmmhm. Huh. Not bad! Pearl leaned forwards, hit a button on Marina's laptop with a toe, and then leaned back as the vidscreen started displaying the movie.  
  
Inkstrike turned out to be a weird, weird, WEIRD movie. It started with some Urchin fellow getting mugged for a fancy bracelet that said S-E-I-L on it, because those were actually part of a cipher involving colour hex codes in order to conceal a superweapon. The people who mugged him were all Inklings, and they were also something called cyborgs? She has no idea, she lost track of parts of the plot here. Also, immediately after a violent mugging, three straight minutes of music accompanied by women dancing around while the creators pasted their names everywhere.  
  
Anyways, apparently that's where Jasmine Bass came in as an international superspy. She seemed fairly bad at being a spy, if Eight was honest, since _everybody_ seemed to know exactly who she was and how she got around - like, Eight wasn't proud of her past as a military soldier, but at least she knew how to keep a _low profile_ and sneak around! She was also pretty noticeable! Like, what kind of spy went around in a suit and tie in places where nobody wore suits or ties?! It was SO easy to pick them out of a crowd!  
  
Bluh. She felt _professionally_ _upset_ about this.  
  
Anyways. Jasmine Bass worked for the United Oceans Crisis Response Management Squadron, which helped in shutting down major incidents across the globe. The current incident was apparently created by a person named Encrier, a mysterious person who nobody knew anything about... Except that since Encrier was apparently Coron for 'Inkpot' and seemingly solely employed Inklings as minions, it was blindingly obvious that this Encrier person was an Inkling.  
  
"You just have to sort of accept those sorts of contrivances, it's how movies work." Marina told her. It was boring though! If you could just guess what the villain was doing, it wasn't interesting! Plus it was just sort of _boring_ and made parts of the movie completely pointless. "Don't worry about it. This is actually pretty subtle." ... That made Eight worry about how people on the Surface regarded the idea of subtlety, and whether Eight should be really _worried_ about the new society she was entering.  
  
The movie later introduced an Urchin woman who had the P-C-A bracelet, which when combined with the S-E-I-L bracelet unlocked the controls for a missile system developed to agitate and break up Salmonid swarms with long-range high-impact Inkstrikes. It looked pretty cool, but that was mostly because old Specials were cooler than the new ones. Encrier also looked pretty cool - they were wearing a retro frilly outfit, and their weapon of choice happened to be a Splattershot Junior painted every possible colour of the rainbow. Their evil speeches needed work though.  
  
It later turned out that Encrier wanted to steal the entire nation of Cephink via holding it hostage with the mother of all Inkstrikes. Eight sort of understood that goal, but also understood how stupid it was given that inklings were apparently strong enough to deflect actual laser beams with their voice alone - what the actual HECK was up with that, Pearl? Anyways, after that, Encrier had a fistfight with Jasmine Bass on top of what Pearl called a submarine which ended with Encrier falling into the propeller blades of his own submarine. It wasn't a bad fistfight, though the dramatic finale made Eight take a few points off since it was clearly designed to be stylish instead of practical.  
  
It wasn't bad. She _guessed_ that it was good? It was the first movie she'd ever seen that wasn't blatant propaganda. It definitely felt good to watch it with friends, who made some of the more abstract scenes make sense. Overall, she guessed it was just that all the action fell flat for her? Like, Eight had gone through just about half of those fistfights, lived most of the gunplay, and yawned at all of the 'sneaking' that Jasmine Bass supposedly did. It was mostly only cool because of the villain.  
  
"... Did we watch the worst Julie Newmarlin movie?" Three asked after a while. "That was boring."  
  
"I've done every single thing in that movie," Eight replied. "So it wasn't that exciting to me. The gadgets were cool." Having glasses that automatically hacked and decoded electronic locks just by looking at them?! Oh, you'd better BELIEVE that Eight thought that was cool!  
  
A loud beep went off in the kitchen area, which made Three hop up and head back into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Pearl was looking at Eight curiously. "Wait. You've done _everything_ in that movie? Had a fistfight on top of a submarine?"  
  
"Not a submarine, but on a moving platform."  
  
"A gunfight where you can't recharge on ink or ammo?"  
  
"That's part of basic training."  
  
"You've dodged explosions from Inkstrikes big enough to destroy an island?"  
  
"Marina, you were part of Sci-Ops. Explain to Pearl what sort of nonsense goes down there."  
  
A dangerous grin, sharp as a knife and deadly as a Charger to the heart, spread across Pearl's face. "Oh, so you've made out with somebody who tried to kill you, then?" ... Oh. Right. Near the end of the film, the Urchin lady and Jasmine Bass started kissing, even though they'd almost murdered each other near the start of the film's first act. And like... Eight really didn't want to give any sort of answer to this question. Because...  
  
Y'know.  
  
 ~~ _"Are all the Inklings this good at flirting?"_~~  
  
 ~~ _"Shut up and fucking die!"_~~  
  
It's _complicated_.  
  
"I don't have to answer that," Eight said quietly. "A-Anyways, Marina! Are my tentacles done?"  
  
A surprised gasp came from Marina. "Oh! Yes! They should be healed by now, let me find you a mirror." Marina leaned over the couch, reached into the bag that had the tentacle styling gadgets, and pulled out a large hand-mirror. "Here, take a look."  
  
It looked... Professional. Her front two tentacles had been swept aside, and her rear tentacles were carefully short. The tips of each tentacle had been cut in half just so, so that it appeared she had eight tentacles instead of four. Four of them hung just next to her neck, barely reaching her neck, while the other four angled out to hang above her shoulders. It looked... Nice. Different. "Thank you, Marina. I mean it." A reminder of the life she'd left behind. Well.  
  
Not _much_ of a life anymore. Basically everybody she'd ever known was gone, imprisoned or beyond help.  
  
... Don't think about it, Eight. "Anyways... About the next movie? What's that one again? The Star... Something?" She had no idea, but it had looked interesting. Hopefully, it was less action-y than the Jasmine Bass movie had been.  
  
This, for some reason, made Pearl start to sing. "Spacegate~ It's a great big _world!_ With a great big swirl that you step inside to another world!" She looked at Eight seriously. "Spacegate was my childhood. I grew up watching that shit, it was great. It's about a group of soldiers sent through a portal to outer space, trying to stop the alien threat!"  
  
"Isn't that the one with Richard Dean Andertrout?" Three asked as she messed around with something in the kitchen.  
  
This statement seemed to physically offend Pearl. "No! That's the TV series! The movie has O'Naill played by Koi Russell! Seriously, man. Get your facts straight." She paused. "Though the TV series is hella good. The show goes for like, ten seasons? And then there are the three movies, and after that, there's Spacegate Atlantis? It's cool, but it's not as great as the original. And then that's it! It ends with Atlantis." This last statement was hurried and fearful. Eight got the impression that it did _not,_ in fact, end with Atlantis. In fact, it possibly did the opposite.  
  
Thought something she said made Eight blink. "What do you mean the TV series?"  
  
"Oh, so, the movie is like. In a standalone continuity? And then the TV series retcons like, bits and pieces? Because it doesn't quite fit otherwise, but like you NEED the background of the movie to get why the series is so good." Eight understood none of that except that she needed to watch the movie apparently. "Alright, Imma put it on! Also, Three! You done in the kitchen yet?"  
  
A disgruntled noise came from the kitchen. "Oi. Ida. How many is Eight?" Huh? What kind of question was that? Eight was... Eight many. Like, seriously?  
  
"Nineteen as of yesterday." What?! Eight wasn't nineteen. Eight was eight.  
  
"What math are you two using? Eight is eight!"  
  
"Not the number, Eight, you yourself."  
  
Huh? "But then it's still Eight! That's my name!"  
  
"You're confusing the matter."  
  
 _"I'M CONFUSING THE MATTER???"_ What the heck was this even. "What the heck are you going on about?! If you count eight times, SURPRISE! YOU GET THE NUMBER EIGHT! EIGHT IS EIGHT YOU CAN'T JUST CHANGE NUMBERS LIKE THAT!"  
  
The sound of the fridge opening and closing echoed out, and then Three did a sweet flip to land next to Eight on the couch. "Doesn't matter right now. Pearl, hit it."  
  
"You gotcha!" Wait, no! It totally matters! Pearl, don't hit it! "HERE WE GO!"  
  
Spacegate - "Spacegate: The Motion Picture!" as Pearl would interrupt - was a much more enjoyable movie over all. Mostly because it was actually sensical and logical, since the military had these things called rules and protocols? It just made more sense. Anyways, it started off about this woman discovering a massive stone ring out in the desert (apparently somewhere covered in sand?) somewhere. Apparently it was made from outer space (??????) and was left on Earth (which was apparently the planet they were on? What was a planet Eight was so lost) by aliens. What aliens were, Eight had no freaking idea.  
  
There were only two characters worth paying attention to, Pearl explained. One was Jack O'Naill, an Anemone man who was once involved with the military before his son killed himself with his own poison. This Spacegate project was apparently his chance to get re-involved with the military. The other was one Dashiel Jackson, an Urchin, apparently some kind of trashlover? Apparently he was an 'archeologist', which was somebody that investigated the past? That was _lame._ If something was old and abandoned, chances are it was because it was useless. Technology and tactics evolve, good sir, and the remnants are not worth keeping around.  
  
After a good, good long while in the movie was eaten up by Jackson translating the images on the stone ring, it was revealed that this was the Spacegate. It looked pretty battered and lame, honestly... Right up until it became a _magic portal what._ "It's science," Marina grumbled. "Fake science, but science." Oh, _right_. Because science made technology _immune to aging and breaking down._ As if, Marina. It was pretty cool, even if it was fakey fake magic science. Then Jackson and O'Naill went through the Spacegate and ended up in some kind of tomb? It looked like one.  
  
When they left the tomb, the place they were at was some kind of desert? Way too much sand. And apparently Jackson had some kind of amulet? Also, some kind of flying monster ship arrived. It looked like a giant statue, sort of, but there was a guy in there named Ras, who was pretending to be a god? And was somehow immortal. Eight had a low view of mortality, and as such, was unsure why Ras was meant to be the villain here. Immortality was awesome. Eventually a bunch of Ras' guards attacked and then murdered Jackson. Except not, because Ras brought him back with their Radical Immortality Machine.  
  
Apparently Ras wanted to kill some people, and Eight guessed that was cause to find them an evil person. Eventually the Earth team got away and snuck onto Ras' weird desert ship, put a bomb on there, killed off Ras, and then saved the weird sand world. Somehow. But then Jackson decided to stay, because there was an attractive woman there? Like. Like, Eight wasn't gonna call the guy out for that. But also, sand sucked and got everywhere and was awful.  
  
It wasn't awful! It also had a weirdly fun charm to it. Compared to Inkstrike, it was much simpler, had a much more appealing cast, and the plot was pretty neat! That said, it was pretty uneventful? Like, it was just four major things that happened that were dragged out over an hour and a half. It was still primarily an action movie though, so... Same problem as Inkstrike. The outer space thing was cool, even if she didn't quite get the idea of it. Stars seemed really fancy and pretty.   
  
"That was nice," Eight said after it was finished. "I liked it. You said there was more?"  
  
"Yeah. The TV series is really good. Takes over a week to watch all of it," Pearl explained. "It's also so much cooler. They go way more indepth with the Gate system, they introduce the BEST villain right up front, it's so awesome!" Ah.  
  
"I still have one problem with it, though."  
  
"What?! How could you-- I mean, it's old and I get that, but like. What's your problem?"  
  
"Why is Ras the bad guy? He's immortal and he can resurrect people. What's the problem." Like, for real. Immortality was _awesome_.  
  
Marina frowned. "I think it's got something to do with attempted murder...?"  
  
"He was trying to _play GOD!"_  
  
Not possible. "You can't play god. Religion is religion - you can't play at it." Silly Pearl. Sephahlos was too strong to be impersonated like that. "Also, he has immortality. Which is like, the best."  
  
"It's the best right up until you're forced to live alone, the deaths of everyone you know and love having long passed you by," Three murmured as she got up. "Knowing that everyone else in existence is just dust and corpses waiting to happen."  
  
... Hm. Well. That was a point. However! "Dark. But that's a consequence of _other people_ not being immortal! If your friends and family were immortal, then it'd be fine!" And that'd mean that mortality and death stopped being a thing, and as such, would make society a much more tolerable place! "Really, Three. You try to make everything bleak."  
  
Three shrugged and pulled something out of the fridge. "That's fair. Mortality is fucking stupid."  
  
"Three agrees with me, Pearl. Your argument is invalid!" Though... She has been acting pretty sketchy and weird for a while, though. Maybe it was time to ask her! "Three! What are you up to!"  
  
Silence. "You'll never know. If you try to move, it'll let cold into your blankets." The fiend... How did she KNOW!? Oh, she probably planned for it! But Three was a fool, you see. A foolish fool, you might say. For Eight... _Had backup_. She nudged Marina, and then flashed a series of octagonal patterns through her tentacles - SCOUT, ENEMY, INFORMATION, VITAL - and hoped Marina got it. Marina nodded, and hopped up to take a look. Yesss... "Almost done anyways."  
  
Wait, for real? Aw, but she went to all the trouble of using signals... "How long until it's done?"  
  
"Like, couple minutes?" Oh. Really? That short? Okay...  
  
Um. Guess she'd wait then? "Marina, is that true?"  
  
"Looks like it."  
  
Hm. Okay then? Uh... What next, then. "What's the last movie? Nightmare Before Squidmas?" It sounded really scary... But the picture looked very fancy! It was a weirdly thin person standing on a weirdly curvy hill, and it all looked very... Evil? Wicked? She didn't know, but it was interesting.  
  
Pearl hummed for a moment. "I... Can't really tell you? It's hard to explain without spoiling it. It's about Splatoween and Squidmas though. Splatoween is like, all about spooky stuff, and Squidmas is a whole big family affair. It's bumpin' as hell, dude." Oh yeah... Marina mentioned that stuff earlier. It sounded super fun! And Splatoween was apparently really close to now, too! "This Splatoween, me and Marina are gonna do a matching costume. Gonna win the couple's costume contest fo' sho'."  
  
Those aren't words. Th. Those are not. Words. "Pearl. Please _never_ say that again."  
  
"Say what again."  
  
"... You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"  
  
"Say what."  
  
"... Never say _'Fo Sho'_ again."  
  
"Can't promise that, homie."  
  
"Marina, can I murder your girlfriend?"  
  
Pearl laughed. Laughed, like a trained soldier didn't just threaten her life. "Anyways. Three, what are you going as?"  
  
"Whatever Callie and Marie ask me to. Not really into the whole Splatoween thing." Huh. That sounded really really lame, but also Eight would do literally anything that the Squid Sisters told her so she totally understood that. "Normal Splatfests are hard enough to focus through. I basically always get a migraine every time one comes around." Oof, that sounded harsh. Eight had had a few migraines before, and those weren't fun.  
  
Suddenly, Eight heard a noise like something was getting set on fire. Once, twice, again and again until it ended with nineteen times. "Oh, it's done! Eight, you'll need to pull your arms out of the blankets to eat this." Then why would she eat it? Also, Three's surprise was food? Interesting. "So, there's a tradition here on the Surface. Every year, on the day you were born, your friends and family get you presents! It's called a birthday. And, um. From what I remember of you, your birthday was... Yesterday, but even if it's a day late, it still counts."  
  
Three and Marina came into view. Marina was carrying four plates and what looked like a knife, while Three held a large platter with something pink-ish on it. They both carefully sat down on the couch, Marina handing out the plates. Three shifted until Eight could see the object on the platter - it was a round, flattened object, covered in a bright pink substance. There were a series of white creamy bits all around the edge, with the number 8 written in a darker pink in the center. Nineteen small towers, each one lit with a flame, were dotted across the surface. Everyone started singing. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Eight, happy birthday to you!"  
  
"Blow out the candles, you can make a wish!" Pearl told her.  
  
A wish, huh... Okay then. Eight wished that she'd get to live up here forever. And with a single breath, blew out all nineteen of the tiny lights. Marina smiled and pulled out the now extinguished little towers, and then used the knife to cut a large slice of the food out. "This is called cake. It's delicious, and you definitely deserve the best slice!"  
  
The inside of the cake was a lighter pink, with a solid stripe of something pink in the center. "It's a basic strawberry cake. Put a light layer of strawberry spread in the center, frosted it with some basic strawberry topping, put some bits of whipped cream on the top, the number 8 I made with a secondary set of frosting," Three explained quickly. Eight took a bite. It was sweet. And delicious. Every little bite was amazing. "I-If it's not great, I can-- I can like, try and make another so that--"  
  
"Three," Eight interrupted. "It's perfect." As she took another bite, she tried to prevent the joyful tears she could feel swelling up from appearing on her face.  
  
She failed.  
  
She was really _out,_ wasn't she? Out from the Domes.  
  
She had friends. And food. And clothes.  
  
Eight swallowed the bits of cake in her mouth. Life was... Not perfect, not yet. She still had memories to reclaim. But it was... Good.  
  
Marina smiled as she licked parts of her slice of cake from her lips and started the last movie.  
  
Unlike the last two movies, The Nightmare Before Squidmas was apparently a 'stop-motion' film. That meant that everything in it was made of clay, and carefully animated image by image, until it appeared that the clay was moving on its own. It was also a holiday movie, about the sundried corpse of an Inkling named Jack. Also, everybody sang all the time. She didn't quite get why they did that, but it was an _INTEGRAL PART OF THE MOVIE EIGHT_ according to Three. Eight started the movie thinking that the movie was about how all these monsters had fun scaring people? Well. Cultural norms, she guessed? But the main crux of the film appeared to be how Jack did not like scaring people. She could tell because he sang a song about it.  
  
Also, Splatoween, according to this movie, appeared to be just a bunch of people dancing around singing about how scary they were. Squidmas, by contrast, appeared to be about giving tribute to a fat man who wore red all the time with lots of candy and gifts. Jack eventually wound up in Squidmas Town, sang another song, and then went back to Splatoween Town. There was another song, where nobody got what Jack was trying to teach them, and then another song where Jack tried to figure out the true meaning of Squidmas. There were a lot of songs in this movie. Oh yeah, there was also another character by the name of Jill, who was a weird Seafolk covered in stitches. She was like, the only sane character in the entire movie since she understood that this Squidmas business was probably going to blow up in a bad way.  
  
Eight liked Jill.  
  
Then, despite seeming like a fairly reasonable person so far, Jack ordered the head of Squidmas, somebody named Father Squidmas, to be kidnapped. Well. That was... _Certainly_ a decision. And in comparison to the colorful ideas of Squidmas Town, the Splatoween Town people went about recreating the holiday in an... Interesting way. It was... Definitely a way to do that. Yup. Nobody could deny that. Also, they sang about it. Then they introduced the main villain - ridiculous, how could anybody be more of a villain than Jack - named Woogy. It was weird, and more of a sack than an actual creature. He also sang a lot, but it was very jazzy and energetic. Not a bad song, all things considered.  
  
Then, when Jack went to start Squidmas, he got shot down by the military. Contrary to how happy stories go, he survived, and then sang about how much of a jerk he was. Woogy then kidnapped both Father Squidmas and Jill and threatened to kill them both. Then Jack arrived, had some really weird sexual tension with Woogy, ripped the skin off of Woogy's body, murdered them in cold blood, and then had a lovely duet with Jill.  
  
It was easily the best movie, though it was still pretty weird. Apparently she was meant to feel sorry for the multiple-time criminal named Jack? Which was _ridiculous_. Still, it had been a pretty good movie, especially with all the songs! All the scenery looked very pretty too, very atmospheric. She wanted to see more stuff like that! "And that's all the movies we downloaded, right?" she asked. Man, they've been watching all these for a while, huh? What time was it, even? She glanced at the display on her phone.  
  
Oof. Eleven PM? Oooh, waking up tomorrow was going to be painful. "Yeah. Though..." Pearl stretched slightly as she checked her own phone. "We're gonna jet. Sorry, but we kind of need to be able to get to the studio real fast tomorrow." Awww... Oh well. She guessed that Pearl and Marina had their jobs to do, that didn't stop being a thing just because they were helping Eight.  
  
Eight leaned up and gave both of them a hug. "Mmmph. Thank you for buying me all this today."  
  
"No problem, Eight. We'll see you tomorrow, okay?" And with that, Marina picked up her Kettle-trunk thing, Pearl unplugged the laptop, the two gave a final fairwell, and then walked out.  
  
She was _tired._  
  
"Y'know, I'm not going to sleep without a blanket," Three grumbled.  
  
"Tough!" Eight told her. Three scowled. "Fiiiiiine."  
  
Eight put up a tiny fight as Three wrangled a single blanket from her and threw herself down onto the sofa. "We'll set up the nest mat tomorrow," she grumbled quietly. Yeah. That was fine.  
  
Eight glanced around at everything in the room - everything that her friends had bought for her and given her, a new life that was all hers - before lying down herself and tugging the covers closer. "... Three?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"For?"  
  
"Letting me stay here."  
  
"It was blackmail," Three replied. Eight got the feeling that Three was a lot less annoyed about it than she sounded.  
  
"Of course it was," Eight replied with a grin. She immediately let herself fall asleep before Three could fire off a snappy comeback.  
  
 _"Hey, Captain! What's that?"_  
  
 _"Neh? Oh, that. There's this weird shit that happens on the Surface, water just falls from the sky. Hits the mountain, trickles through the rockwork and makes its way down here. We call 'em waterfalls. Fresh and unfiltered, too. It's proof that the Surface is real."_  
  
 _"Falls from the sky? That sounds awfully silly."_  
  
 _"Yeah, the scouts say real weird things about the Surface. And y'know what? When we start Operation Blackout, I'm recommending Squad 25 for it. You brats can go see the Surface for yourself."_  
  
 _"Really?! Thank you, Captain Grimm!"_  
  
 _"I've got faith in you brats, y'know? Waterfalls like that are just the beginning. You kids are gonna reach the Surface and see all kinds of stuff. So do me proud."_  
  
Eight woke up the next morning with a memory that wasn't garbled or cryptic. Something she truly, actually remembered. She hoped it wouldn't be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Got that done.
> 
> Next story will be about Eight meeting the Squid Sisters in full. Also, some plot exposition.


End file.
